I got to visit some very cool empty 50s office spaces this morning, that are about to be redeveloped. It made me want my own office space,from which to hatch all manner of cunning plans. But this isn't the first time I've had these thoughts.
In 2002 Chris and I were going to set up a working office with a street frontage, and staff it in cheap polyester suits between 5pm to 8am, toiling away writing a novel on Post It notes, as part of the Taranaki Festival's non-existant Fringe fest. We ended up not doing this, but I got to know the local arts reporter really well as a result.
In 2003 I was poised to convert a very cool wood panelled office space in central New Plymouth into a minimalist apartment after my car blew up, making central city accommodation somewhat necessary. I ended up borrowing my sister's car, so the communte into the city remained manageable.
In 2004 I was eager to start my own agency in the upstairs office space of a turn of the century office building, conveniently located above my favourite bar. Contracts were tentatively lined up, brands were designed, prices sought (researching dreams...) , but then I got a job offer in Wellington and followed this. It was safer and easier. I suspect this might still happen some day.