Lee Wochner: Writer. Director. Writing instructor. Thinker about things.


Team’s work

Last Monday, when I got back from a weeklong trip to Jacksonville, FL on business, I was pleased to see that the nice folks I work with at Counterintuity had indeed installed a new desk and seating area and office chair and wall screen and rolling file cabinet in my office. It’s been a pleasure having these new articles appointed here, and especially rewarding working at the big new desk, which affords me plenty of additional space to struggle to keep clear of the sorts of papers and pens I inevitably clutter everything with.

One thing I don’t have any longer, amidst all this workplace splendor, is a couch.

For years, my office has had a couch, but we had a flood in the Counterintuity office back in May — long story; don’t ask; wasn’t our fault; it was the fault of a faulty pressure regulator outside the building that delivered too much pressure and broke the plumbing. Everything has been rebuilt, refurbished, replaced or upgraded since then, including all the furniture and fixings in my own office. So now I have this nice seating area, but I don’t have a couch.

Which means:  I just took a 15-minute nap on the floor.

For 26 and a half years now, I’ve run a Saturday morning playwriting workshop out of Moving Arts’ theatre on Hyperion Blvd. down in Silver Lake. And then, after that, I’ve physically crashed. Because while leading the workshop is thrilling — and it is! — it’s also exhausting. I’ve got lots to do at all times, and plenty of energy to do it most of the time, but staying that focused — on following the goings-on in new pages among the seven to nine playwrights in attendance each week and leading the discussion and trying to make positive impacts while monitoring the time — is utterly draining. In a fulfilling way, like, well, running a marathon of the mind. So, after this weekly concentration of disciplined thought, I generally go home, shut down utterly for an hour or so, and then either go to the gym or do some writing of my own.

But today, I wanted to catch up on some things in my office, having been away for that week. Except there’s no longer any couch. So I took a nap on the floor. Which was fine, really, what with its brand-new and nicely padded carpeting.

When your angle of approach to life changes, you notice things. Here’s something I noticed from my unexpected perspective, eye-level on the floor:  a little sticker notifying me that my new desk has passed the test for compliance with formaldehyde! Now I need never worry about that. Mind you, I never had worried, ever, in my life, about a desk being dangerous for formaldehyde. But as for this desk, now that I’m alerted? I should have no reason to worry at all.

Of course, it depends upon what you make of “compliant” in the phrase “compliant for formaldehyde.”

Should I worry?



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