There is a room in the building where I work that sends my heart a flutter. Unfortunately, I can not get in it. Maybe that's why I desire it, because it is unavailable. It is a reading room that is almost always locked. The door has a little window that allows me to peak in and wax on what could be a moment of unbridled reading ah.
There is a soft red couch and two comfy looking stuffed chairs in a room lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves that are at least 15 feet high. Long tall windows bring in natural light and cork floor tiles give it a warmth. My fantasies of this room involve me, a good book, and falling asleep reading that good book in one of the chairs that just whisper 'sit on me'.
Since I'm in the land of fantasy, I'll throw in a butler. The room just screams Jeeves! So, I, good book, comfy chair, and a man in smart attire with a tray of a full tea service waiting on me.
Then I realize that I've been peaking in a room where I have no authorization and at any moment another staffer is going to walk by and might actually say something, so the fantasy ends.
At home I'm trying to get close to the fantasy. The coffers are a little empty so the bookshelves are from IKEA, as is the couch, and I'm going to loose the chauffeur to marriage and he never did butler work. Can't afford a butler no how.