You know how certain items in your life just become a part of the landscape – you don’t actually SEE them anymore, because they have been around so long? It almost takes someone who doesn’t know your space to come in and notice them to make you even remember they are there. Items on my desk definitely fall into that category. Anything I leave on my desk for an extended period of time becomes a fixture after a while – sometimes even things that I should deal with in a timely manner, like returns or bills or thank you notes.
Recently, while attempting to create order out of chaos on my desk for the zillionth time, I really noticed these two items that have been there for years:
They are paperweights. The brown one was a promotional gift from Rock Bottom Brewery, made out of recycled beer glass, and the other one I bought at the Guinness Factory in Dublin – that little brown spot in the corner is a drop of actual beer imbedded inside. I have had both of them for years because I think they are cute – though it’s odd they are both beer related, since despite many valiant tastings, I have never learned to like beer.
I have also never used these paperweights – or ANY paperweight I have ever had in my possession, for that matter. And having had a lot of desk jobs in my life, I have had many paperweights cross my path. It’s such an easy gift for someone you’re not that close to, isn’t it? And catalogs create a million of them with inspirational sayings, so they feel like a profound thing to give – as if seeing a piece of metal proclaiming, “Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you always imagined!” will really make someone feel happier about their shitty soul-sucking desk job.
But I am as guilty of having given them to others as keeping them myself. Even though I NEVER USE THEM. Does anyone? Aren’t they really just lame decoration under the guise of being useful for something? Because let’s face it, if I ever have so much paper blowing around on my desk that I need a rock-like object to hold it all down, I am committed to taking a few minutes to either file it all or throw some of it away. THAT would be going confidently in the direction of my dreams. And I don’t need a paperweight to remind me of that idea.
So I’m throwing these away. Beer and paperweights – two things I’m fine without.