One of the things I've enjoyed a lot since moving into the Professor Haus is taking my time to research *the best (for our needs)* of every item we purchase.
However, I did not expect this to result in a full on love affair with an office chair.
But here I am. In love with a grey chair with no arms.
Ok, so first of all, I've happily taken on the job of building all the furniture that comes into the ProfHaus. That is because I love doing it for some reason. It feels very satisfying to follow the directions step by step and have something to point at (and sometimes put things inside!) when I am all done.
One of the sad things about aphantasia is that I don't think I would be able to create a piece of furniture without someone else's instructions. It would come out all wonky and jaggedy and I wouldn't be able to figure out how to put the pieces together so that they'd be structurally sound.
So I'll just stick to putting together grown up lego sets designed by other people.
This goes back to when I was growing up (I just remembered this - thanks brain!), at the holiday times, my brother would always get a Lego set. You know, one of the elaborate ones that take hours to put together.
After the gift giving portion of events, he and my mom would spend hours putting the Lego set together.
And me and my dad? We'd put together furniture. Or at least we did one year... the year I got my first computer. It was the olden times, but he splurged and got the whole thing: computer, big ole monitor, a desk and The Oregon Trail.
And one of those ergonomic knee chair thingies because that is what my dad knew to be a computer chair. I won't lie, I loved that chair because of the unusualness of the shape, but I did NOT like the nubby beige fabric.
It was comfortable as heck, though.
Ok, so that is why I think that I like building furniture kits, that is why I told that story.
So, on all the furniture we bought for the Professor Haus thus far, Mickey asks me, "with expert assembly?" and I say no immediately, because I am a furniture building FOOL - aside from two times.
Time #1: After we had finally chosen the perfect pink princess daybed with a trundle (I honestly still can't believe I'm about to make this TV Princess room a reality. Every time I tell Mickey what I want to do to this house and he says yes, I feel like I am getting away with something. But I'm not, like, I'm a grown up and Mickey said as long as he has a two-door minimum pooproom to use I can do whatever else I want to with the house.
But y'all, with our main TV room being a pastel princess fantasy, our bedroom being one single color, and this yarn thing I'm doing in the rotunda, I feel like I am really stretching the limits. But, also, at the same time, I feel invigorated because, even though I can't picture these things I'm planning, I feel like they're gonna turn out cool. And so far in real life, yes, yes they are.).
I gave pause when Mickey asked "With Expert Assembly?" because there are a lot of moving parts and people who aren't me will be sleeping on them and what if I fuck up and the trundle rolls away and then the daybed collapses to the ground? Stuffies everywhere! So in this case, I sheepishly said, "yes, please expert assembly". They assemble the bed the day after my birthday.
Time #2: When we ordered my office chair (pictured above). Now, this one I considered for a long while, because, I mean, it's a chair! It's simple, right? But hydraulics or whatever, my brain reminded me. Hmm, could I handle that? Plus this chair was a little more complex than normal chairs and I was gonna sit on it every day and didn't want to crash to the floor due to leaning too hard. But I said, nah, no expert assembly and decided to put my chair together myself.
Then the chair arrived and I stared it down warily for a couple of days, almost frightened of it. Then I felt enough shame for not putting it together yet to talk myself out of being scared of it and did the thing.
It was easy, the hydraulic part was not scary. The only part I even struggled with was putting on the wheels - all seven of 'em!
Yes, I said seven wheels, which might seem kind of odd since the picture above makes it look like just a normal chair, right? (Also, please ignore the rest of the mess in that room, we're still unpacking and my office is kind of a staging area - but it's all coming together slowly but surely)
But it's what's on the underneath that counts for this chair.
You see that footrest thingie? It can swing around the entire chair and you can sit on it in roughly one million positions.
It is so good for someone like me, who likes to pretzel up sometimes, or cuddle up to one knee (or both) or any of the other bisexual sitting jokes that exist. They're true, for me at least.
And the faux leather is very soft and supple and just a gorgeous shade of grey. I spent a lot of time researching this purchase and I felt like this was so extravagant - to spend $350 on a chair that only *I* was gonna sit on.
But I'm gonna be spending a lot of time in it - and the variety of the positions I can sit in open up a bunch of different artistic activities that I used to have to sit on the floor for.
Normal chairs were just too restrictive, man.
So, if you are like me and enjoy sitting in one million different positions throughout your workday, I cannot recommend this chair enough (No, they are not paying me to say this, I'm just in love with this chair.)
It's called the Pipersong Meditation Chair.
Oh and in case you were thinking moving in was going too smoothly, we have already cycled through three electricians (signing a contract with one on Monday, though, yay!) and failed spectacularly TWICE at record storage options.
First one was my fault, I ordered too small shelves to store the records on - despite checking the measurements roughly one billion times.
And then, after we placed an order for properly sized shelves, Mickey also ordered cloth cubes so we could just slide the records in and out of the cube shelves. (It's a whole cube situation, y'all) Those arrived on the same day, but oddly timed a part.
Like, I came outside for stoop blogging time and there was a mystery box on the stoop. I set it inside and came back outside and blogged, then went inside and bopped around doing some house stuff for a couple hours. When I come outside to eat dinner, that same box was outside again.
I thought I had stepped into a time loop or something, but nope! It was just two boxes of the same thing delivered at different times. Amazon makes no sense to me at all.
Oh, so the slidey cloth boxes? Also too small for records.
But you know what's great? All of the too small things can be used for creative stuffie storage in the Princess TV room!