Biff Rambles On About … Getting Back in the Saddle, Cracking Up, and Giving Up My Seat

Biff Hiking #4

 

Just as I suspected, it was quite a shock to my system to return to to my job today after being away from it for 9 whole days.  I would have preferred to ease back into it gradually, but that’s not how these things work.  As they say, it’s best to just get back up on that horse after you’ve left it for 9 days and went off to have a good time without it.  But don’t expect the horse to be happy about it.

On the plus side, nearly a quarter of my co-workers remembered who I was when I returned today.  Security attempted no less than three times to escort me out of the building.  Fortunately, my badge vouched for me and I was allowed to stay.  Badges never lie.

And that is a good thing because it was nice being inside in the air conditioning instead of outside in hundred degree heat (37 C).

The Glass Crack’d From Side to Side

My good fortune at not having to work outside in the oppressive heat was driven home to me when I went outside to talk to the fellow who was there to replace the windshield in my car.   It is bad enough to have to work underneath a blazing, merciless sun and its attendant heat and humidity.  It is even worse, while working in those conditions, to have to handle nearly molten windshield glass and red hot metal parts of an automobile.  You are a better man than I, Gunga Din.

Though the cost of the new windshield was staggeringly expensive, it was totally worth it because there is no longer a horizontal crack in my windshield right at eye level that flares and scintillates every time the sun catches it just right.  I suppose I shall just have to do without being scintillated on the way to work every morning.

Cutting to the Chaise

Tonight I said goodbye to a dear old friend.

No, it was not a pet, though many, many pets have left their mark upon this particular friend.

No, the friend I said goodbye to was my beloved chair that I have been sitting in for the past 20 years.

Not continuously, of course.  That would be silly.

It was an easy chair that was part of a living room suite that has disappeared piece by piece over the aforementioned 20 years until it was the only original piece left.

It held a place of honor in the family room.  Okay, that’s not entirely true.  It occupied an ill-lit corner of the family room that no one else wanted and so I adopted it as “my spot”.  I liked it because it faced away from the television set, thus removing that pollutant from my eyes.  Instead, I would sit in this (or rather, that) chair and read or write or dream.  A good number of the blog posts I have written were written in that chair.

However, I could no longer ignore the large (and growing larger) holes in the upholstery.  The pet stains, though they had been cleaned many, many times with all sorts of chemicals that promised to remove any stain, insisted on returning over and over again like an unemployed relative.  The cushions, over time, sagged more and more and supported my back less and less.

So, I purchased a new chair several weeks ago and, as it has now passed all of my rigorous tests, has been granted permission to stay.

But that means that the old chair had to be let go.  It had its exit interview with HR today and was walked to the door on its wobbly legs.

Goodbye, old friend.  I shall miss all the times that we sat and dreamed together.

 

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7 comments

  1. Is there an untold story here? Did you decide on your own to give up the chair, or were there spousal pressures? Giving up a favorite chair, no matter how worn, doesn’t sound like the sort of thing a man does voluntarily.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hi Lorne! No, this was actually my decision. I can tolerate a certain amount of shabbiness, but there comes a time when it is just time to let something go. For me, that time was when I began to cringe at the thought of sitting in my old, beloved chair. It was definitely a hard decision though!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. You got rid of an old friend. I have benign – or something worse – neglect for three of my old favorite chairs. I don’t sit in them. One is a recliner that I haven’t sat in much since my now adult youngest son would sleep in it five nights out of seven (leather never recovered from a sweaty kid). The other two are in a corner of my garage. And then there is the “arty” bench. A wooden bench in the garden dry-rotting away..

    Liked by 1 person

    • It’s amazing how hard it can be to get rid of something that’s been a part of our life for years and years. The logical part of our brains tell us that it is an inanimate object and so unworthy of affection. And yet, we begin to feel genuine affection for our various pieces of inanimate objects that have been with us through thick and thin.

      Like

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