Confessions of a desk addict

Spud hit it on the head the other day...  I have a thing for desks.  It is a dark obsession and one the I struggle with in constancy...  Mostly because I am absolutely out of room to put another stick of furniture in my home and there are still so many really awesome cool desks out there to be purchased, perused and possibly purloined!

There is Nana's desk that was once her mother's (or maybe mother in law's?) This is Man's family, not mine (yet):

(Gratuitous inside shot just for Spud...)

Man's desk from his boyhood:

(The knobs for the bottom drawer are inside, refusing to stay on the drawer!)

Girl's crazy colored desk, complete with horses:

Boy's desk, complete with cars and one shark's jaw (boxed for protection):

My Nana's desk, one of the only things I wanted when she passed:

And the kidney shaped desk we refer to as the "Red Table" to hide my addiction:

Don't judge me!  I told you I had a problem right from the start.  I know it is a problem because I would have more, if I only had the room!  I'm not sure what it is...  It could be that a writer always needs a good desk, or that I have a serious attachment to things that hold sentimental value. I don't really care what the cause is.  I enjoy each desk for what it is. 

And maybe if I rearrange the bedroom, I could fit another desk in there...