This is the desk of a Lien at work. No, no, don't get excited. I haven't found a job. I have set myself a task, though: I'm writing up a knitting pattern. Not for any particular reason, just to show myself that I can do it. If I'm happy with it when I'm done, I may think about a way to make it public, but, mostly, right now, it's to show myself that my brain hasn't shriveled up and poured out of my ears, yet. I want to confirm that, if I put myself to it, I can still think up a project, work through it, and get a finished product.
I've already knit the cardigan. When I first thought about writing up the pattern, I figured it might be an interesting exercise. But as I thought about what would be needed to do it, I got more and more into it. The funny thing is, I don't actually like doing all the tedious math for figuring out all the sizes. I've always been one of those people who, when I've done something once, I kinda lose interest. After the one time, I know all the mistakes I made, I know how they could be improved upon in version two. But since I've already figured it out, I lose interest in the actual doing of the thing. Once the principles of how to do something, once the methods have been worked out, I kind of feel like my work is done.
This means that all my finished knitting (and sewing, when I did it) is imperfect. This also means that I think it would be good for me to push myself to at least write up what would be perfect. To pay attention long enough to finish the project. So that's what I'm doing. There's no one forcing me to do this; it's not a job. So when I get to the sleeve cap shaping for four sizes, I have to force myself to plow through it. It's just tedious math, I know I can do it. I don't particularly want to do it, but I know I can, and I know I'll be happy when it's done.
By the way, this is what my desks at my jobs have always looked like, too. Lots of books and references open to relevant pages, but my thinking, the actual working out of the problem, is always done on whatever random pieces of paper I find around me. This was really embarrassing at work when someone would ask me something, and I'd have to rummage through a pile of papers to find the envelope that I'd done the math on the back of.