Marissa Lingen (mrissa) wrote,
Marissa Lingen
mrissa

desk woes

There were only three pieces of furniture in my childhood to which I had an emotional attachment. The first and most important was the big blue and white couch, which was the big brown-and-orange paisley couch when I was small. Some of you visited it in the downstairs family room at my folks'. Some met it here, when it was in the living room. It was a wonderful couch, but it served its time and had grown frankly uncomfortable, and so when we found our big red couch, I was finally content to let the old blue couch go.

The second is a dark wooden rocker. It's a wooden rocker. You can break them if you try very hard, but you can't wear them out. It's in the living room. It's here for the duration. One of these days I hope to get a new chair pad for it, but that'll probably be around the time we paint the living room. (Which is not actually on the schedule for the 12th of Never, but it's also not on the schedule for, y'know, soon.) But the chair pad is a minor detail. The chair is staying. When Mom yielded it to me, she asked that I give it back to them rather than to someone else if I ever decided to give it away. I told her that would be fine, but not to expect to see it except on visits.

And the third is holding the keyboard right now: my grandfather's cherrywood desk. I am greatly fond of it, but it was not designed for computer use and is probably a suboptimal height for typing; it may be contributing to my back problems. It has three drawers to the right and a little retractable shelf at the top. (I use the retractable shelf constantly. I don't know what on earth I would do without it. I can have an L-shaped desk or not, at a moment's notice.) On the left...is the reason I'm making this post. On the left there was apparently one of those things where the typewriter was supposed to spring forth, but by the time I was old enough to claim the desk for my very own, there was no typewriter and the springing forth bit had gone away. So it's a large open cabinet, basically, with funny rails inside and a door that opens downward with difficulty instead of sideways with ease.

That door has broken off, and it would be more woodworking than I want to do or than markgritter wants to do. I'm pretty sure it's more than my mom wants to do, either, and Grandma doesn't really get the sentimental value of the thing in the first place; she was glad they could get Grandpa a new desk to replace this one. She likes the new desk much better.

So...do I pay to have it fixed? Or do I buy a new desk? Sentiment or ergonomics? I honestly don't know. I really like this desk. But I'm not sure it likes me. My grandpa is still around and healthy, so it's not like this is the last trace of him in my life -- I talked to him on the phone just yesterday. But on the other hand, it's not like I can just get this desk back if I get rid of it. New desks will continue to be sold for the foreseeable future. The decision not to fix this one is a more irrevocable one.

What would you do? Keeping in mind, of course, that this is not a democracy, and that I know you're not me.
Tags: grandpa, veryveryvery fine house
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