Adjusting To Adjustable Furniture
Oh, I miss those six inches - of foot room. Moving from 868 square feet to 391 square feet required significant downsizing. Over a year and a half later, and the downsizing continues with a bit of an upgrade and yet another readjustment. I bought an adjustable desk that almost but not quite fit into the space I've been using as a dining table and workspace. It turns out that the old solution gave me lots of room under the desk for a chair, two sets of storage shelves, and me. The legs on the new one left less room, so adjustments are being made, and I'm fine with that.
The previous owner created a creative solution. Just like old ironing boards, a shelf folded down from the wall at just the right height to serve as a place to eat, and a place for my laptop. Then it became a place for a larger laptop, and a monitor, and a stack of in-box trays, and... It was secure enough, but the engineer in me saw failure modes being held off by luck, some finesse, and a willingness to accept a bit of risk. Hey, it only fell once! (I'll spare you the details.)
A new desk shouldn't sound like a splurge. And it isn't, sort of. But several years ago, back when I couldn't afford much, my doctor recommended a standing desk. Cool. Fine. But I didn't have the money then, and I haven't had the room for two here. Ah, but an adjustable desk can have varying heights, which gives me ergonomics to play with and hopefully improve.
Living in a tiny house has helped me live without a mortgage, which has left me with discretionary income. Yay! Being a fairly frugal person also means that I don't spend all of my cash all at once. An adjustable desk was out-prioritized by some necessary tree surgery, a washer/dryer, and the rest of a long list of home improvements. Finally, the desk.
Start shopping. In the several years since my doctor recommended me to buy one, the list of options and capabilities has become overwhelming. I'm guessing the initial lockdown inspired a lot of home office options. Realize that I don't know of any office furniture supply stores in this rural/touristy part of the country. Resign myself to browsing and searching through Amazon, deciding to stick to brands I know because evidently desks cost hundreds of dollars, and be glad that IKEA has one that fits, and that they can ship. Get out the card and checkout.
IKEA shipped it, but being IKEA (and maybe the others, too) some assembly required. Some? It came in four boxes, was heavy enough that they recommended not moving the pieces alone, and an instruction manual that relied on modern hieroglyphics. But hey, at least I didn't have to drive a couple of hours one way to pick one up. Besides, the bonus was an eager delivery driver who helped me get past the steps and such. Thanks.
Four boxes? Unpacking them in a tiny space? In a larger house, I'd open everything in an empty space, lay it all out, and start working on it at my leisure. Not here. Teetering boxes and the contents strewn about would be disruptive for days. Nope. Instead, schedule a day purely for going from boxes to an installed desk here and recycled cardboard at the local station.
Simple enough.
If I was energetic enough, I could've set up a time-lapse unbox and installing video. Nah. I just wanted to get it done.
The summary:
unboxing and building = 4 hours
lunch = 1 hour
closing out the old space and moving the desk into place = 1 hour
reinstalling my laptop and such = 0.5 hours
realizing that me and the old furniture don't fit because it is six inches narrower = grumble, grumble
rearranging things temporarily because I know adjustments will be made = ongoing
A few things worked out better than I expected.
It works! It works without bumping into the rest of the house, and the various cables don't bind. Whew.
IKEA is an excellent design firm. Those hieroglyphics were only slightly perplexing. (I suggest a different fastener arrangement for the control panel, but, hey, that's me.) They recommended having two people build it, but a bit of ingenuity made it work.
That previous desk panel that folded down from the wall is folded back up into the wall, which nicely covers a paint job chore I still haven't tried. And as I glance over there, I realize I'll have to move the monitor to open that space because my tide calendar is hiding in there. (Tide calendars are handy in a seaside tourist town.)
Any shakiness has more to do with my poor building skills, but the desk is stout enough (and heavy enough) to be much better than a board on a hinge.
But the shopping isn't done. Every change is likely to launch another change.
A variable height chair/stool to match the desk. (I could've bought one at the same time, but one thing, and one set of boxes, at a time.)
Different storage cabinets. (I'm still using a random collection acquired over decades. Maybe something that fits and works?)
Is there more? Sure. But I'm not going to try to reinvent everything in one day. Coming up on two years here, and there's always more to do, but that's what homeownership is like. Right? Glad to be in a house, and glad it is a (relatively) tiny one.