A New View

I climbed the mountain of linens and hung a painting on the wall next to my work area yesterday. You can just see my desk––and my desk-bear––right, front.

Mr. Linens sits to my left.
We usually alternate days, but when we're both there, it's a constant litany of apologies for running into each other.  Every so often he'll say something along the lines of, "You don't have to apologize, woman––you're just doing your job!"
I like Mr. Linens.

I chose a painting that seemed neutral to me, since lots of coworkers face this area. I think they like it. 
One helped me hang it, and another said, "It's like a window." 
Another commented of a coworker who fishes every day at the nearby lakes in summer, "Now we're going to have to tie Danno down to get him to stay at work!"

I haven't asked Mr Furniture his opinion yet...

Nobody makes much effort to make their work-stations their own. I'm not sure why. Partly, I imagine it's not worth it--the donations keep coming, it's always going to be a mess...
The common mantra is "There's nothing you can do," which is both a protection––"I don't care, I didn't like it anyway"––and a self-fulfilling philosophy.

The break room is uncared for too.
Mostly it doesn't bother me, but I noticed I've started to enjoy places that in the past I thought were sterile––
the nearby museum of fine arts, and the new downtown YMCA.

I'm going to the YM later this morning for my new-member's free hour with a personal trainer.  My pulled leg/groin muscle is healed, and I'm stronger after a year of physical work, but as midlife, I have to be more intentional about staying strong. 

I don't really want to, but I'm willing.