Free writing that became an Ode to a Chair…

Just commented on a post by Polysyllabic Profundities. It was about not having anything about which to write, or not really having the time to sit and think to let the words flow. This is my most difficult challenge. Due to what most would call “real world responsibilities,” I go through periods where writing has to take a back seat. A 12 hour day at work here. A 15 hour day at work there amidst the regular 10 to 11 hour days take their toll and once the time arrives that I can just sit and be, I tend to just sit and sleep. I just woke up from my papasan where I was peeking into book number three that I bought over the weekend. I made it about eight pages and I was out for the count.  Upon waking and reading that post and making my comment, I felt it best to have a little taste of my own medicine.  This is what came up…

I told my wife just yesterday that there just isn’t enough time to do the things I want to do in a day. One of those things is this…just sitting at my keyboard unloading words on the blank canvas before me, or writing up some notes in my notebook that may or may not become something profound. This has become my favorite activity, and one that when I have to do without makes me feel just a little off.

Just looking back at the first paragraph I noticed that I have introduced you to our papasan chair…or better yet…my papasan chair. It has become our reading chair. Here’s the funny thing…when my wife and I first moved in together, she abhorred that thing. She hated it. She could not understand why I would voluntarily own such an ugly piece of furniture. I told her to wait…just wait until you sit in it. Wait until you crack open a book and read in it, then, and only then, will you see. Well, guess what…she saw, and she still sees. We had a friendly little verbal joust with one another over the weekend after our trip to the bookstore about who was going to get to use the reading chair. I definitely pulled the it’s mine card…really I think what it was was that I raced into the apartment before she did, got settled, got my book out, and sat down before she had the chance. I relished in the victory, needless to say.

My aunt gave me that chair years ago when I was looking for furniture to fill up the living room in an apartment I had moved in to, and it is one of the most awesome gifts I’ve ever received. There is nothing special about it. It is your typical papasan chair, made of rattan with a new cushion my wife graciously purchased for it (I think she knew deep down how amazing it would be, and she was trying to make peace). We have a small footstool that doesn’t necessarily go along with it, but it does the job quite well, so that when you put your buns in the bowl, and your feet up, a heavenly sensation ensues. The chair nestles in its corner of the living room by the window. Incidentally, that little heavenly spot is my favorite place to go with my weekend coffee.

I just love that thing. I do.  The only thing that could be better would be to somehow find a desk that would accommodate my papasan as the working chair. I’m not sure how much work would get done, but damn, I would be comfortable whether I was doing work or not.

If you don’t own one of these amazing pieces of furniture, I suggest you get it in gear. Head on over to Pier One, or wherever else papasan chairs are sold, and make your purchase. I promise, you will be glad you did. And if you once owned one, but then felt it necessary to get rid of it, I have only one thing to say to you…

Shame on you. After reading this, I bet you wish you had held onto it, don’t you? Well…you can’t have mine!

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Free writing that became an Ode to a Chair…

Any Thoughts? Quips? Remarks? Let's Talk!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s