Home Office

Maybe you never saw the original set up here in Stockholm? No matter – it was the exact same, just located in the living room.
Now I’ve been delegated to the bedroom. Deadlines are approaching, the heat is on, and poor Marie was breaking her back dragging Tilja away from under the desk, off my legs, and off from climbing the back of my chair. Not to mention she is now tall enough to actually reach the keyboard – and makes work a little haphazard, and spelling very inte87kmrestgalsidting indeed. The bedroom affords me a window that doesn’t shine into my screens, and a door! It really is like having an office. No one is in there during the day anyways.
I also have a little Tilja-Sensor. When there isn’t a mad rush for anything, I can leave the door open. The throw-rug behind my chair mutes the slaps of her hands as she crawls- and hearing the muted paws, I know I have about five seconds to save anything important. Then I can take a little break and say hello to my little girl.
