I had a dream last night that I was in my old house, one my family had moved out of about fifteen years ago. Some of the rooms had been converted into offices, and I was sharing one with a bunch of highly distracting co-workers. And then I remembered: in the finished part of basement was the study, the actual office. Everybody had forgotten it but me, and so I very quietly went down there, and found a lovely space (lovelier than it had been in life) where I decided I'd work secretly, perhaps extending invitations to a few favoured friends to use the second desk.
That means something, I think: it's a call to work in an old space, in a corner in a basemet, perhaps forgotten and unnoticed for a time.
That's okay with me.