The first office I ever worked out of had no windows. It was in the basement of an academic building at Western Connecticut State University and it’s only saving graces were that my boss was awesome, brought his dog to work, and had tons of plants to give the illusion of greenery. However, they did little to mask fluorescent lighting and stale air during the colder months. I quickly learned coping mechanisms (read: chocolate) that aided me in powering through a 9-5 windowless existence.

After that experience I told anyone and everyone who would listen that I would never work in an office ever again. Now, almost three years later, I am buzzing around a 3,000 sq ft Soho loft moving furniture, setting up a coffee machine, and waiting with anticipation for a delivery of much needed chairs.

While in college, I worked out of my dorm room. I’d take Skype calls in bed dressed in a button down shirt and flannel pj pants. It was a classy look.

This past summer, I worked out of my apartment. I rotated between my couch, bed, and dining table, spontaneously made cupcakes during the day, and went to the gym at times typically seen as “work hours” just because I could.

It’s amazing how the environment you work in dictates the quality of the work you create. At WestConn I struggled to stay focused,  In my dorm room I was a slug, and in my apartment I lied to myself that I was being productive while icing hand cut sugar cookies.

Now, moving into this new office, I am excited to create a space that is full of light, greenery, and a dash of whimsy. My threat of never working in an office ever again may have been an empty one but, in that office nightmare, I had no choice in my environment. Here we have an empty slate with original hardwood flooring, a tin ceiling, and freshly painted walls just calling for a living wall garden that we are filling with beautiful things that make going to work something to look forward to – all in the name of getting shit done.