I've been deskless since we've moved. My old ugly one got absorbed into Dyami's office, and my only place to pay bills and store papers was on our kitchen counter. I didn't realize how much it was bothering me until I had an inspiration: take over an awkward, largish corner in our bedroom, buy an amoire desk instead of an open one, and possibly move my sewing stuff there too, so I might be able to do a project without setting up in the middle of dinner.
A few weeks and a craig's list ad later, I have my desk. And instead of being ugly, and white, and exposed, it's cool, and black, and can be shut. Today, Lucy was opening and closing the doors, and I said (nicely), "Lucy, this is going to be my private space. Please leave the doors shut."
She looked up at me, nodded, and shut the doors.
Imagine! A private space! It's revolutionary!
I think my writing is going to get a whole lot cooler. Just be prepared.