I love my electric stand-up desk. That's the only reason I'm blogging about it: I just wanted to share the love. This is a hymn of praise. O pristine expanse of fond and flexile formica ... well, maybe not.
It was love at first rumour. As a writer I'd spent 25 years searching for the perfect chair and battling with every one I bought, from a cut-down kitchen job to the $3000 Aeron ergonomic wonder. The kitchen chair was probably better for me than the luxury Aeron, but so what: nothing felt good.
One day I read one article by a guy who used a stand-up desk for his work. Not architectural drawing, but computing. Instinctively I knew this was for me.
First I spent a couple of weeks experimenting. Book boxes and telephone books cranked my computer up to standing level. I finally understood the trouble with chairs, all chairs. They trap you, they lock you in stocks, and over time they slowly distort you like a bonsai tree.
Then what a stroke of luck: I found Kada Commercial Furniture in Tory Street, Wellington, had some of these strange objects in the shop. No brand, so I can't advertise them. But perfect. Press two buttons and the desk glides up or down to virtually any level. If my legs get tired, I adjust the level and perch on a stool. (Never again have I locked myself into the trap of an office chair.)
The only danger is that if my task is interesting (and right now, it's very interesting!) I can work continuously for four hours or more.
Because it doesn't feel like work. Working at a stand-up desk feels more like going for a stroll on Mt Victoria. I have been physically and psychically liberated.
I'm not working in a chair: I'm working in the air.
Not advertising. Just saying!
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