After eight years of living and working out of a 10' x 11' bedroom with a shitty vertical (albeit functional) desk that forced me to:

a. Sleep where I work
b. Use my bed as workspace
c. Work where I fu - sleep.

I have finally converted one of the extra rooms into a home office. This is actually a bit of a big deal as what it cost wasn't just a chunk of unearned commission to Room and Board and Home Depot and the Futon Shop, but rather, nearly nine grand a year in roommate income. I'm a cheap bastard and that's a lot of dough.

The benefits, however, at age 36, seem well worth the price.

For the first time, i have an office. I have MY space.

The desk itself was the key decision for me. I wanted function. Most desks don't work because they limit you. Heavy. Immovable. No leg room. Cable management is a bitch. Yuck. I didn't want a desk. I wanted a big table. The file drawer is on wheels. The printer is on wheels. If i had to do it over, hell, the whole table would be on six inch locking casters too. There's a hidden keyboard tray. It's six feet by three feet and made of steel and butcher block. It cost more than my first car and weighs almost as much.

I dig it. And with the two inch steel tubing that frames the whole thing, let's just say it can support any work and non-work related activity you might imagine.

I'm just sayin.'

The conversion also gives overnight guests place to stay that isn't the floor or the couch. Also important during the summer when my brother decides that 110 degrees in Yucca Valley isn't exactly where he wants most to be and subsequently spreads his shit spread all over my living room. There was one point last year when he had more shoes at the house than I did.

The best part? I no longer have to suffer through tile saws and jack hammers and ranchero music. The house directly behind my bedroom has been under construction for two years. Two YEARS.

I finally have a sanctuary.

Now I just need to convince the dogs that when I'm in here, I'm not supposed to officiating Wrestlemania, nor am I supposed to be retrieving slobber-soaked racquetballs from under the futon. I'm supposed to be enjoying 30-inch, HD, internet porn from the comfort of my naugahyde office chair in peace and quiet