Last year, I brought my two sons to the publishing office where I work a full-time/part-time job. It was the first time either of them had been there, and upon seeing my rather spartan desk, my older son — he was 9 at the time — asked me why I didn’t have any pictures of him or his brother at my desk.
At the time, I told him that I’m not here all that much — I only go to the office one day a week, and work from home the others — so I didn’t need to fill my space with photos.
But there’s another reason: No office is home. And I don’t want to treat it like it is.
I was reminded of this yesterday. Like all publishers, the company where I work is struggling these days. To make ends meet, the company fired several employees. That’s always painful. It’s even more awkward when the fired employees are back at their desks, packing up their personal items.
If I ever get fired? I’ll walk out the door without hesitation. I don’t have any personal items at my desk.