I’ve been thinking about desks recently. Mostly, I’d guess, because I don’t have one. When I got back from a recent trip to Madison, Wisc., I found myself working cross-legged on the floor.
I grew up doing my schoolwork on a perfect desk that my grandfather had designed. (It was attached by wood screws to the bunkbeds that he also designed.) And I think I might have gotten a lot more work done back then.
I’d prefer, really, to have Ankelchenn’s desk.
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