I found my new office location this week. It's a bench and table in the park. There are many tables to choose from, but this particular table chose me. Whenever I arrive, I find it mysteriously empty, even if the others are full all around. That's how I knew it was my office, and hadn't already been claimed by another writer. My table overlooks the river that runs through the park. Straight ahead of me, maybe a mile away, the tallest building in Songdo shoots up into the clouds. It reminds me of the washington memorial at the end of the long lawn. My table has the finest view of the river because it is positioned at the corner of a bend. This means that the river goes off in a straight shot to the left and to the right, giving the illusion that I'm surrounded by water. Right behind me is the boardwalk. Bikers and Mothers and Tourists and Men in Suits pass by, but since my back is turned to the busy-ness, I don't get sidetracked with people watching.
It's quiet here. I have no smartphone, no internet. I use the IPAD, which is a lot less flashy and distracting than the MacBook. My bike is locked to a fruit tree nearby. I can't get here without riding my bike, so I always arrive with my blood pumping, ready to work.
The only problem is there's no restroom nearby. So far I've made the best of the situation, but I'm still searching for the quickest access.
Every office has it's bummers.