I talk about our office, which is Todd's and my apartment, all the time. So I thought I'd give you a looksy. Though there's no Dwight, Creed, Pam, or Michael, it's pretty insane.
The lay of the land: The apartment is split on three levels, but there are no doors so everyone hears everything at all times. All personal calls are done in the hallway (my poor neighbors)! Girls are constantly walking in and out of the building to the apartment and I swear, the super thinks I'm running a brothel!
Todd works upstairs in the bedroom. There's an alcove off the main area and that's where his desk, bookshelf (thank you Ikea for the sleek white lacquer sets). He has a megaphone to tell us to be "QUIET ON THE SET" when he has power calls - lawyers, partners, accountant, all the ugly stuff I am incapable of handling.
Near him - and scattered through the bedroom - are boxes full of press kits, samples, lab submissions, components we are considering, our branded bags for editor mailings, reels of hot pink tissue paper, stationery, "celebrity boxes" (fab branded boxes used for celebrity-gifting - i.e. Selena Gomez just got a bunch for her birthday and she gave one to Nikki Reed, which was covered in In Touch magazine - you can see it on the site, in the press section).
Downstairs, living room. My office is the sofa with laptop on my lap. I never dress up unless I am leaving the house for a meeting. Literally wear the same yummy sweat pants from Young Fabulous & Broke EVERY DAY.
Sharon (follow her on Twitter) works at my mother-in-law's card table in the middle of the living room (note the stripper pole in front of her, sandwiched between her "desk" and the couch). Oh, her files go in a box that lives upstairs in the bedroom, three feet from the bed. So organized. Her chair? An ergonomically incorrect Philippe Starck glossy silver number from the kitchen with an orange patent pillow (the one that embellishes the sofa) behind her back.
The only land line is my personal one, so we don't give it out because it is so unprofessional to go to an answering machine. We use cell phones. Key conference calls take place in my closet, on the floor.
We do have a fax, but who faxes these days? We just bought a wireless printer that resides in the kitchen, next to the fridge.
Tiffany (@TiffanyPurpleLab on Twitter), Communications Assistant, often shares Sharon's table - a fold-up chair to boot.
Wires and extension cords zig zag across the floor like one of those laser beam security systems you see at museums and jewelry stores during heist scenes in the movies. No one has crashed yet.
At any time, one to two interns "multi-tasking mavens" share the sofa with me or sit on the chair near the TV. And when they leave, their computers and files are "hidden" in the corner of the room.
In the kitchen is "our Social Media Chanteuse" - Dee - and her, um, make-shift video editing station (follow her on Twitter). Near Dee are other multi-tasking mavens - two to three at any given time.
Brainstorms go down in the living room or at a "conference table" at Starbucks. Press kit and mailing assemblage... on the floor, where ever there's room.
And when we get products from the lab, we all pass them up and down. There is often tossing of things from downstairs to up and vice versa. We frequently tell each other to shush.
But the bathroom is clean. The kitchen is fully equipped. We're in the best neighborhood. We're around the corner from the post office.
We fantasize of having a real office, but for now, I wouldn't have it any other way!
Purple Lab Creatrix