Ah, academic real estate. No, not the campus plant: our offices, or dream versions thereof. During my first year job-hunting, I had a flyout at a Catholic college where the English department was stowed away in what were formerly the servants' quarters. For some reason, I found this information vaguely distressing (not to mention potentially prophetic of how English faculty might expect to be treated there). On my campus, we t-t folks are lucky enough to have our own, more-than-decent offices--something which cannot be taken for granted at a comprehensive of this type. For some reason, when our building was renovated, the architect decided to cut the offices into vaguely triangular wedges. The inner wedges don't have windows onto the outside world; instead, they have windows onto the outer offices, which have the aforementioned windows onto the outside world. This arrangement causes some bemusement, to say the least. It also has a certain panoptical effect. In any event, I'm quite pleased with my own outer office, which has room for seven bookcases, a filing cabinet, a desk, and a reading chair. But I must say that the best office I've ever had was in Wieboldt Hall at the University of Chicago, when I was working for Modern Philology. Massive! Built-in wood bookcases with glass doors! Incredibly high ceilings! The only downside: no air conditioning, which made it completely unusable during the summer. I had to conduct business from the English department's graduate student lounge, or risk dying of heat stroke.