Where am I again?

At our old house, my mother's desk was in the southwest corner of her bedroom.  It was a decent-sized desk, though it was still challenged to house a computer and monitor, a scanner, and at least one printer, as well as what was often a clutter of paperwork.

I have since read that it's bad feng shui to have a computer, or other work paraphernalia, in the southwest corner of a room (particularly a bedroom), and I took this quite seriously when arranging my bedroom last year.  This year, however, the limitations of my apartment have forced me to break that rule and put my desk in the southwest corner of my bedroom, where it has access to what is literally my apartment's only three-prong power outlet.

Something about this desk is throwing me off today.  It must be some combination of the way the soft, cloudy-day light seeps through the blinds, and the way my desk is arranged with a printer newly sitting to the left of my monitor, and the layer of clutter that necessitates an archaeological expedition just to find my notepad, but I keep getting this eerily certain feeling that I'm in my parents' bedroom back home, working at the desk there.  I am actually surprised each time I remember that I'm actually in my apartment in Richmond.

Weird.