Today my computer chair and I had a battle to the death. I won but just barely.
Mr. Chair and I have been together for a long time. He used to belong to HHBL, in fact I think we brought him from our last house to Chez Knit so that would make him…
I am thinking at least 15 years old. I don’t know how old that is in computer chair years but it is old. I thought he and I loved each other like an old married couple.
Evidently I was wrong.
He had served faithfully for low these many years, first under HHBL’s awesome posterior and then under my ever expanding bahookie. Granted he was looking a bit care worn. There was that growing hole in the seat covering that lets the foam padding show through. And there was the fact that the right arm rest was a bit wobbly. Occasionally he would jettison a screw from somewhere. He was a bit pilly and stained and there were creases that were still full of cat hair. Oh and there was the fact that the height of the seat could no longer be adjusted. When you sat down it lowered to whatever the height it wanted, usually some where around preschool chair. And then when you got up it sprang back to bar stool level. But other than that it had been a loyal and faithful office buddy to me.
The sun is out and shining for the SECOND day in a row here in the Frozen Northeast Ohio. All is right with the world because for once WE AREN’T THE ONES GETTING THE SNOW STORM!!! I thought I would do a bit of internet surfing and then get some photo editing done and a blog post or two all the while finishing up the laundry.
Ahhhhh, sitting down in my comfy old computer ch………
I grab the edge of my computer desk as Mr. Chair gives a wheezy gasp and flings me to the right in a desperate attempt to fling me to the floor.
What the heck!
I stand up quickly, if a bit unsteadily, turn around and there the chair sits, innocently looking at me.
I turn around, put it in reverse and lower my gluteal muscles into the chair.
It flips me back like a deranged dentist intent on root canal.
When I lean forward in a vain attempt to right the ship it snaps me forward and my forehead nearly collides with my computer desk. It felt like I was on one of those slightly alarming rides that you see at the county fair. You know the ones that you are really too afraid to go on but you have no problem letting your children ride.
By now, when I would rise carefully from whatever position the chair had flung me in, it would not snap back to it’s original position. It sort of had a list to port. Not good.
The final time I sat in it and tried to set things aright it swung me around like the tea cup ride at Disney.
I wheeled him out to the back hallway and in a bit he will be spending the next week in the garage because of course he waited to start his murderous rampage until AFTER the garbage men had come to pick up the garbage.
I grabbed my small sewing chair, the one that doesn’t go down at all so I am towering over my computer desk at the moment and doesn’t have any arm rests. Nor does it recline at all so I feel sort of like an office drone with a deadline. And it isn’t all that comfortable.
But at least it isn’t trying to kill me.