The papers were signed and the boxes were packed. I was ready to move into my new office space. Working from home had quit working for me a long time ago, and renting from Office Evolution seemed like the perfect solution. The view was spectacular, the wifi primo, the copy machine just down the hall, and there was always coffee.
But what I was most excited about, what I had been waiting for since my tour, and what truly sold me on the space, was the fob. When it comes to great technology, good things come in small packages, and the fob is one round inch of pure freedom. The fob opens the door to any Office Evolution. Anytime. Anywhere. Bear with me and I’ll tell you why that’s so important.
Mark Twain famously said, “Writing is easy. All you have to do is cross out the wrong words.” This is terrible advice. As a freelance writer, I’ve learned that too often, all the words are wrong and I’m left staring at a metaphorical page full of lined-through sentences.
At these times, I take inspiration anywhere I can get it. I toggle from webpage to webpage searching for ideas (Facebook doesn’t have any, but I keep checking anyway). I thumb through books and magazines, and I stare idly out of windows. The view from OE is usually a goldmine of ideas for me.
From five stories up, in the heart of Salt Lake City, I get a birdseye view of everything that’s going on downtown: couples skating at the Gallivan Center, City Creek shoppers laden with designer shopping bags, people grappling for parking spots, and groups of powersuit lunchers walking back to the office, neckties flapping in the breeze.
Additionally, the office just feels professional. It’s fun to pretend I’m a go-getting ad-exec sipping bourbon from my Madison Avenue office (yes Madmen fans, I’m talking to you). But some days, the city atmosphere doesn’t cut it. Some days, my inner hippie (her name’s Patchouli) demands something different.
This is when I grab my fob and hit the pavement. Less than an hour’s train ride away, and I’m walking up 25th street, known to Ogden locals as Two Bit Street, in a whole new environment. I’m strolling past yoga studios, artists on street corners, plenty of free parking, and rows of charming two story structures, centuries old.
I approach the OE door, swipe my fob, and with a satisfying click, the lock opens. The atmosphere is completely different than it is in the Salt Lake office, but the amenities are the same. I wander back to the kitchen, pour a cup of coffee, grab a stool at the front window--ground level, and connect my laptop full of crossed-out words to the wifi. A man sporting dreadlocks and a didgeridoo walks by the window. Patchouli sighs with gratitude and begins to type.
Ultimately that’s the power of the fob. I love knowing that I can repeat this process from California to New Jersey, and that dangling from my keychain is the small black key to many cities.