A sprawling desk, window with a view, leather sofa - sounds like a sweet office. But if that describes your workspace, here’s a tip. Big fancy offices are out – cubicles are in.

This morning, NPR’s Morning Edition reported that co-working spaces continue to be immensely popular across the country. I had heard of these before, but didn’t really know what they were. If you’re out of the loop like me, a co-working space is like a communal office for freelancers and entrepreneurs. You can rent a cubicle or desk for a monthly fee, and in exchange get access to a workspace, complete with amenities like heat, internet access, and – perhaps most important – a plethora of co-workers with whom you can brainstorm, seek advice or bounce around ideas.

How cool is that?

Well it’s so cool that, in many bigger cities, the co-working spaces have waiting lists. They have to turn away applicants who may not offer much to the overall dynamic, or for whom they simply do not have room.

As I write this, the reality of it shocks and confuses me. As a big fan of NBC’s The Office, and former inhabitant of a cubicle or two, I admit I don’t see the glamour. If anyone out there remembers the movie Office Space, you know what I’m talking about.

Entering work and looking out over a sea of indistinguishable modular open air units doesn’t seem all that inspiring. In fact, when my peers and I first entered the workforce, “cubicle” was a dirty word (as in “I never want to work in a cubicle”). Perhaps we feared getting lost. Or maybe the atmosphere of semi-common, quasi-identical work spaces threatened our individuality. Whatever the case, cubicles were synonymous with entry-level, coffee-retrieving, internship-esque jobs. They were a stepping stone to the big time and real office.

Of course, this was pre-recession, and because I lived close to several major cities, working from home (especially working at home with children) never occurred to me. Today, however, my “office” consists of a drawer-less desk, lap-top, printer and a color-coded filing system. It is intentionally minimalist – the less stuff I have, the less opportunity for mischief at the hands of my ten-month old (she’s quite taken with the buttons on my printer).

Anyone who has ever tried to get work done with a really cute (and slightly nosy) baby nearby knows that it’s a losing battle. I’d always assumed I couldn’t afford to rent an office space, but a little research showed that there are co-working options for as little as one hundred dollars a month. Not a bad deal.

So if you find that you’re having trouble making work at home work for you, consider co-working. You’ll be so trendy your teenagers might even think you’re cool…

Do you rent a co-working space? What are some of its positive and negative aspects?