My bedroom is the only remaining haven where I can write, compose
emails and conduct business (like making grocery lists). It stands
to reason that I would spend a lot of time in there. For this
reason, I need a good chair. The one I had was OK, but the
cushioning had gone flat and I had to place a small pillow in the
back for lumbar support. I think that is where I keep my lumbar,
anyway.
This situation was OK, but not ideal.
I would have kept my chair, but my husband's chair broke. It was
the second chair he had broken in two years. I saw his misfortune as
my ticket to a new chair. The plan? He could take my old chair and I
would get a new one for my "office."
Lest you think I was being selfish to suggest this, you need to
consider my willingness to take his old iPhone when my contract was
up so that he could upgrade to the new one.
We have a give-and-take relationship. Sometimes he does the
taking and sometimes I do.
He wanted a new iPhone. I wanted a new chair.
Besides, men's posteriors are accustomed to sitting for hours on
metal bleachers and fishing boat benches. My chair with its
half-inch of padding would be no sacrifice for my husband.
In fact, because he is over 6 feet tall, his lumbar would
probably be at least six inches above mine. If my old chair had any
support at all, it would fit his lumbar much better than mine.
Finding a chair that would fit me, however, proved to be quite a
challenge. Not only was I looking for more padding in the seat and
built-in lumbar support for my irregularly shaped behind, but it
seemed the more chairs I sat in, the more features I decided I
needed.
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The first one that drew my eyes was an executive chair with fine
Corinthian leather. It may have been "pleather" for all I know, but
it looked like something where Ricardo Montalban would sit, behind a
monstrous mahogany desk.
No matter that my "desk" was actually a plastic card table,
complete with a calendar, a grammar cheat sheet, a card with the
warning signs for a heart attack, various scraps of paper with
information I don't want to forget and, Scotch-taped to the wall
behind it, pictures my children have drawn for me over the past five
years.
Yeah, OK, leather was too cold to sit on anyway. I needed a cloth
chair. A high back would be nice, too, in case I wanted to rest my
head.
Truthfully, if I wanted to rest my head, I could walk 5 feet to
my left and crawl into my bed. However, writers have to be
disciplined. I can't lie down simply because I'm tired. If I had a
"real" job, I'd be fired. So, I decided a high back is a must. I
wouldn't want to be forced to fire myself. It would be awkward.
Armrests are really unnecessary, but they are a luxury I can't
resist. I thought it would be nice to not have to support my arms
all by myself. Sometimes you just have to pamper yourself.
When I finally lit on a chair that met my many criteria, I bought
it and brought it home. To add extra fuel to the fire of my
husband's envy, I asked him to help me assemble it.
I could see that he was as jealous of my new chair as I was of
his new iPhone, but he took my old chair, knowing that his only
other option was perching on one of his 1980s CRT monitors.
Considering his habit of breaking chairs, he wouldn't want to take
that chance with the contents of his computer museum.
[By LAURA SNYDER]
Laura Snyder is a nationally syndicated columnist,
author and speaker. You can reach her at
lsnyder@lauraonlife.com
or visit www.lauraonlife.com
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