A really long time ago (August 20th 2007, if you want to get specific), I bought a desk chair from Staples. I had recently started working from home and wanted to a good setup from which to get fired then paid EI under the table in exchange for not reporting my employer’s many (many, many) labour violations to the government.

2007 was a weird year.

Anyway, the chair. It was a no-name, basic-ass feat of $50 engineering that perfectly suited my needs at the time, because 2007 Kimli was a lot less maintenance than 2020 Kimli (this is a lie, she was extremely high maintenance and had Many Issues, most of which would not be resolved for nearly a decade). What no one could have known at the time was that this no-name basic-ass $50 Staples chair that met my needs in 2007 would go on to meet my needs for the next thirteen years.

Never let it be said that I don’t get every last bit of value from the things I purchase.

The chair is in surprisingly good shape given the initial cost and amount of use seen over the years. I started working from home full time in late 2016, but the chair is used daily for a significant portion of my waking hours. I sit a lot, okay. When I’m in my office, my ass in is the chair. Before I had an office, it was my gaming chair. Do you know how many times this chair watched me kill Diablo? Not many because I didn’t finish the game that many times, but it’s definitely more than 3.

Ed tried to get me to replace my chair many times, but I hold a lot of sentimental value in things that don’t really require it, such as my duvet that I finally had to retire when it exploded in the dryer, several articles of clothing that are long past being wearable (RIP Hulk Pants), and this chair. Last week though, I could no longer ignore the fact that I had been sitting on plywood for the better part of 5 years – there was no padding left whatsoever, and my butt hole was hurting (my butt hole being the spot where my pilonidal cyst was closed up when I was 6; not to be confused with my butthole) constantly. As much as I was reluctant to admit it, it was time for a new chair.

So, I bought a new chair. It’s nice. It cost much more than $50 and I have no designs on this chair lasting anywhere near as long as the predecessor did, but my butt hole hurts less. On this 82nd day of isolation, a butt hole that does not ache is really all I have to be excited about. Hooray! Hooray for my butt hole!

No, YOU just wrote 465 words about a fucking desk chair.

Stay safe, buttholes.