Please remain seated

"Please remain seated with your seatbelt fastened until the plane comes to a complete stop." I haven't heard those words in more than a year. In fact, the last time I flew, you could check your luggage for free. How quaint.

My thoughts about seating are wide-ranging at the moment, so I'll ramble.

1. Today I received tickets for the right-by-the-stage seats I picked out for this summer's jaunt to the American Players Theater. The seat locations are outstanding, and the chairs themselves are comfy, so no seating issues there. We'll just hope for a 72-degree day in August, slightly overcast, with a light breeze to keep the bugs away.

2. I wish I were picking out my seat for a trip on a plane. (Can you still do that, or do you pay extra for that too?) But I'm not going anywhere, so I won't dwell.

3. My lunchtime seating today had a water view, normally a plus for a beach fan. Unfortunately, it was a view partially obscured by fog, and the river was full of debris and ice chunks breaking free from a mess upstream.

4. The days aren't getting longer just because of Daylight Savings Time (not being a morning person, I'm a big DST fan, by the way). My office chair has started making me long for shorter days.

Back story: At my previous place of employment, we had Chair School, where we rolled our assigned seats to a large open area and learned to use the very expensive ergonomic office chairs. Many people did not see the value in this exercise (and even suggested it as a topic for Dilbert), but I absorbed the lessons and actually used all the settings on my chair, depending on my task.

I could've been a Chair School instructor, but I think they gave up on formal lessons and just handed new employees a manual at some point.

Fast forward a few years: The first chair at my current place of employment came complete with stains of unknown origin, dog hair (I don't have pets, nor do I appreciate having their fur transferred to my clothing), and chipped armrests. You only can cover armrests with packing tape so many times before it becomes ineffective and you start scraping your arms on broken plastic, so I hid that chair in storage when we moved our offices.

At that point I "acquired" a brand-new-looking conference room chair (we had too many to fit around the table, trust me). Looks are deceiving: it doesn't roll on carpet, and as I've recently discovered, only has sufficient padding for sitting on through a short meeting. It's not an eight-hour chair. There really is a difference between this cheap chair and a $400 one.

Potential solutions: I could figure out a way to stand all day. (I always was jealous of art directors with stand-up desks.)

I could sit on a piece of foam or a tie-on cushion from grandma's old kitchen chairs. (I'll have to rifle around and see what I can find.)

I could buy an exercise ball to replace the evil chair. (I've investigated and shopped, but can't bring myself to buy, yet.)

Haven't reached a conclusion; I'm still thinking. Suggestions welcome.

You may be seated.