A peek at my work space [and oh-my-god my thighs]

I thought you might be wondering what my work space looks like. Or not. Either way, I’m shoving it down your throat. Kind of like how the local radio stations keep insisting on playing that Katy Perry song. And yes, I know there are viable alternatives to the radio, however those alternatives would require someone like myself to keep track of her iPod.

No, I normally don't go around my house randomly photographing chair legs, or shelving units, or my work space for that matter. It's just that we bought this Nikon flash some time ago, and I’m still trying to figure out how to best configure its settings. I’m sure the manual has various line drawings, diagrams and helpful instructions explaining its features and whatnot, but where’s the fun in that? Also, I can’t find the manual.

So every time I want to shoot using the flash, I must individually test each of the flash's settings in the lighting I'll be shooting in. Now, that’s where the fun is!

Adjust flash setting, take shot, check the camera’s display. Too dark. Crap. Repeat. It’s a real party.

I took some test shots around my work space the other day. Later, that afternoon, when I downloaded the photos onto my computer, I noticed that my pink chair matches my pink mouse pad. Somehow, I’ve never noticed this before. It’s not like I’m colorblind; I’m just distracted. Actually, the chair and the mouse pad are Lexi’s, but I stole them from her at the end of the school year when we moved the desk out of her room so she’d have more floor space to strew her dirty laundry about. I may, or may not, return the chair and pad come the start of school since she still owes me for those first four months of her life I spent walking around our apartment, holding her over one shoulder while trying to bounce the colic outa her.

Mommy wants some reconciliation.

In this photo:

1. One unconfigured external hard drive. Nothing on my computer is backed-up. If anything should happen to my computer’s hard drive please look for me sitting on a bar stool at my local Applebee’s.
2. A stack of papers and a napkin. Because many of my blog post notes are written on paper products traditionally used to wipe up spills.
3. One uncharged, cordless phone [see stack of random papers]. My dad insists on keeping his expensive landline. He also likes to ball up twenty dollar bills and shove them into the cracks of our foundation walls. No one calls us on the landline, except the Republican National Committee and the lawn care company telemarketing. Both of which have about as much chance of getting a dollar out of me as are Ben’s chances at a night of romance after a plate of beef fajitas.
4. One pair of sunglasses. THAT’S WHERE THEY ARE!
5. One garbage receptacle containing Starbucks cups and juice boxes. It’s full, and needs to be emptied, but that just means the trash isn’t strewn under my desk where I usually keep it. We’ll count this one as a ‘win.’
6. One camera.
7. One ball point pen. I CANNOT BELIEVE there is actually a pen on my desk.

click on below image for larger view

Not in this photo [but on/around the desk]:

1. One utility knife. I don’t know why it’s there, I can only assume Ben used it to carve  open the drywall, behind my desk, in order to pull through the cable line. I only know this because there’s a pile of drywall debris under my desk.
2. A stack of laptop carcasses.
3. One egregiously ugly desk lamp, which came with the equally heinous computer desk.
4. One Happy Meal toy.
5. An empty bandaid box. Since bandaids have a sticky backing they fall under the ‘toy’ category. You will bleed to death from a paper cut in this house.
6. One picture frame, sans the picture. I haven’t had a photo printed since I gave birth to Whitney. [All my photos are on my internal hard drive.] I haven’t had my eyebrows waxed either. Some things require more sleep than three kids allow. Lets just hope that hard drive doesn’t throw up its hand and quits anytime soon!

click on below image for larger view

I’m not naked. It’s just been really hot this summer with no AC, and I usually work in a bathing suit. And now you know.