From my desk

I love staring off into the distance from my desk.

If I look just over my laptop screen and to the left, I can see a sliver of DC night sky between the long curtains at the door. Lights twinkle and chimneys make dark silhouettes and I wonder what people are doing out there.

Next to the door, my mini fridge sits on top of a too-small side table. On top are my box of thank you cards, which I aspire to someday start using for real, but which I now just use as decoration because they're so darn cute. Next to that, my little wooden block that says Love you to the moon and back (whose twin sits on Jaime's shelf), and next to both of them sit two bananas that have turned black while I waited to decide how to use them. Because eating them would be too easy.

Continuing to the left, you'd see an orange lawn chair that decided it wanted to live inside, another short metal table (home to my stack of index cards, thriving lemon tree, and dead basil plant), and a brownish-orangeish armchair that would've gone really nicely in my great-grandmother's basement with some shag carpet.

Just out of the corner of my eye I can see my warped bedroom door that will never quite shut, but that I can wedge closed pretty well. I keep glancing at it suspiciously because lately I've become convinced that I have a mischievous but generally well-behaved poltergeist for a neighbor. Sometimes my door will swing open for no reason and bang against the hallway, the floor creaks for no apparent reason, and my lights like to flicker. Also there's an access panel to the attic in the hallway that has been ajar since I moved in and each time I look at it I think it has opened a little wider.

I was hoping that writing about my poltergeist would make me less creeped out, but no luck. I've turned on Songza instead.