John came by yesterday morning without Juan to make some measurements in our big closet-someday-to-be-an-office space. We were going to have a company called California Closets put in a couple of desktops, one at each end, and some shelving. A woman from that company—Nicole, was her name—came by to draw up some plans; she emailed them to us and we didn’t like them because she had put a shelf right where we said there shouldn’t be a shelf, like she wasn’t listening or something.
We had been pretty specific about where stuff should be since I got my chair. I am actually embarrassed about this chair. It cost a 1000 dollars. I don’t feel morally that anybody should pay that much for a chair. I grew up thinking chairs were supposed to be uncomfortable. I always sat on hard wooden chairs and went to a church with pews that had been designed for insubstantial beings, like angels or something, but not for people.
So I had to go through all sorts of ethical, moral and self concept issues to buy this chair. I had to face the fact also that my neck is in not such hot condition. I could live with this OK but for the fact I sometimes spend hours in front of a computer and the effort to get my eyes focused properly through my trifocals (or whatever they are) causes me to do all sorts of odd things with my neck, and these odd things in turn cause my neck to ache and to spread an ache clear down my arms.
I know from having talked with people that neck stuff can be hard to fix. You sure don’t want anybody operating on your neck (unless you know a disk has completely collapsed or something). So I felt ethically the right thing to do was just to endure it. But then I thought, “Sometimes I sort of enjoy whatever it is that I am doing at the computer and my enjoyment is lessened or ruined completely sometimes by the pain going down the neck. So if I don’t do something about my neck the little enjoyment I am able to derive from working at the computer will be lessened.”
I hate to think it. That I have become a hedonist in my old age, but that was the idea that swayed me. Please note though I did say I got the chair to preserve a mild enjoyment (well, not even that, maybe more like minimal satisfaction) and not anything as radical as pleasure. So if I was moved by hedonism it was pretty mild.
There’s even more to the emotional complications I went through to actually click the button on the computer that ordered that chair. But I did it. I admit. And, well, if any chair is worth a 1000 dollars I guess this one is. It’s called a Leap Chair and is made by a company called Steelcase that specializes in office furniture. You can adjust it in like six different places maybe—up, down, backwards, forwards, the arms go up and go down and the back support can be adjusted in several ways. This is one hell of a chair.
When John came to take the measurements he sat in it and wouldn’t get out of it. But the thing is monstrous big. It weighs 70 pounds. I will probably hurt myself trying to move it around. And once we actually saw it in the soon to be office space we realized we would have to make changes in our plans.
Actually I got a Leap Stool, as depicted above, but in a much more sombre navy blue which will also help better to conceal the inevitable stains I will get on it.