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I spend a lot of time on my computer. So much so, that I have to get a new chair since the seat of my current one has deflated (see What About Weight, the blog preceding this one). Not only that, it has thrown me more than three times like an untamed bucking bronco. There was actually a time when I was sure that it was possessed by some evil goblin because it seems to have a personal schedule when it allows me to sit.
Yes, it does have wheels, and occasionally, it plays “Musical Chairs” or maybe it should be “Musical CHAIR” singular. There may be no music, but it decided on its own to pull it out from under me like the imaginary music had stopped playing.
I had so many flips over-and-out that I thought the chair arrived immediately after auditions for the rodeo. In fact, it took me down three Sundays in a row…and I did not utilize the form that true cowboys use as in the picture below…holding on with one hand. When it threw me, I was hanging on to anything I could grab …and missed.
Yes, it does have wheels, and occasionally, it plays “Musical Chairs” or maybe it should be “Musical CHAIR” singular. There may be no music, but it decided on its own to pull it out from under me like the imaginary music had stopped playing.
I had so many flips over-and-out that I thought the chair arrived immediately after auditions for the rodeo. In fact, it took me down three Sundays in a row…and I did not utilize the form that true cowboys use as in the picture below…holding on with one hand. When it threw me, I was hanging on to anything I could grab …and missed.
Two of the three times I was ejected, I was alone in the house. I was in my Outrageous Office putting papers into a brand-new file cabinet. Hardly not a hazardous chore by any means. Somehow the chair saw its opportunity to send me packing and I flew into the air and landed on several area items, bouncing from the open file drawer and landing on the wastebasket. See the results of that episode in this graphic. The circle shows where my considerable derrière wound up. Yes, it was a wire bucket…do you know how hard one needs to land to bend a metal trash receptacle? I was afraid that I sent seismic waves to the computer at UCLA, signalling an earthquake.
I started to laugh, which is what I usually do when something like this happens to me. I have two knee replacements and I can't kneel. (Which is a problem if you are Catholic, since we do a lot of kneeling. I have perfected the “old lady squat” whereby you just set your butt on the edge of the pew, lean forward, and it gives the impression of praying fervently.)
Looking around, I couldn't find anything to pull myself up...the chair was out of the question. The flimsy file cabinet (I don't buy good office furniture. I usually buy the kind that comes in a 6" flat box, and putting it together makes Ikea look like a rival to a Frank Lloyd Wright design.) I wasn't sure if I could reach my phone, and if I could, who was I going to call? It was too embarrassing to call a neighbor. Then inspiration struck me. If I could get to the stairs, I could pull myself up on the handrail. But how was I going to get there?
So, I scooted.
My plump aforementioned derrière was good padding to bounce along, and my weakling arms had just enough muscular strength to lift me off the ground every foot or so. I certainly did not move at supersonic speed, but I got there… and voilà! I was upright again.
I didn't think this could happen again (but, after all, I am Judy!) and the following Sunday I was again alone in the house (the hubs hits the links then). I was sitting at the desk, and I dropped a piece of paper on the floor and leaned over to pick it up. The evil seat not only threw me off, but managed to roll on top of me. I felt like I was in the Roadrunner cartoon and the villain just dropped a one ton weight on my body.
But now I had experience! So…once again, I scooted!
This time I made it to the stairway in record time. Of course, there was only last week's record to be broken, but I take pride in any small victory, even if it's getting your bottom to move the rest of your body along while in a sitting position. The best part was that no wastebaskets were harmed in this episode.
Three times the charm was the following Sunday. This time I went to turn around from my desk to reach something on top of the new file cabinet (which was finally finished, but certainly not in the quality of a Louis XIV piece …or is that Louis XIII? I get them mixed up.) And it spun me around like the girl's head in The Exorcist and sent me under the desk.
At first, I thought that maybe I should just stay there before I began to scoot again because I was tired. … but the hubs was home and heard the crash and yelled down the stairs to see if I was okay. If he could get a dime for every time he yelled, “Are you okay?” he'd be up there in the Forbes Five Hundred.
When he started down the stairwell, what he saw was me scooting down the hall, laughing like a crazy person.
But then, I am a crazy person.
This time I made it to the stairway in record time. Of course, there was only last week's record to be broken, but I take pride in any small victory, even if it's getting your bottom to move the rest of your body along while in a sitting position. The best part was that no wastebaskets were harmed in this episode.
Three times the charm was the following Sunday. This time I went to turn around from my desk to reach something on top of the new file cabinet (which was finally finished, but certainly not in the quality of a Louis XIV piece …or is that Louis XIII? I get them mixed up.) And it spun me around like the girl's head in The Exorcist and sent me under the desk.
At first, I thought that maybe I should just stay there before I began to scoot again because I was tired. … but the hubs was home and heard the crash and yelled down the stairs to see if I was okay. If he could get a dime for every time he yelled, “Are you okay?” he'd be up there in the Forbes Five Hundred.
When he started down the stairwell, what he saw was me scooting down the hall, laughing like a crazy person.
But then, I am a crazy person.