Equipment.
Hey, look, there’s my office.
Midnight update: I guess what I wanted to say here was that, during
this past week of vacation and orientation, the termination of my employment
has only partially committed itself to my brain.
Sure, I’d erased my files and turned off my
computers, but there they remained, on the desk in my office, quietly waiting
to go back to work. Daily I walked past that room (marked “DINING” on floor
plans of our lovely house), and each time I resisted the unconscious urge to
veer into my Big Black Office Chair and check email/IRC/IM/feeds/Perforce.
But now I’ve gone and disassembled my office equipment (as you can see in the
photo) and as Johnny Five will tell you, this means it’s finally really
dead. After I hand it all over (to the other member of my previous
employer’s Houston cell), I’ll go about taking apart the other apparatus of
my bunker for the last year and a half: The wires, the paper trays, the boxes
of files and boxes of boxes, the unusual makeshift desk. It probably won’t
look like a dining room while we live here, but it certainly won’t be my
office anymore either.
So now where am I supposed to do my tinkering?