Long-time fans of this magazine might recall an editorial I wrote, years ago, when I was COS editor. In that editorial I confessed to my ergonomic woes of being a not-so-tall person, and described a flight to a safety conference during which I harassed the flight attendant to give me something, anything, to put my feet on – a stool, a box, a drink tray – to no avail.

These days I work from home as a freelance journalist. You’d think that having written and edited ergonomic-related articles for the past 16 years I’d have a state-of-the-art home office that fits me like a glove, but no.

I bought a desk with many wonderful shelves, nooks and crannies, but didn’t realize, until after I spent an entire day assembling it, that it would be so high off the ground. In order for my torso, eyes, neck, arms and wrists to be comfortable while I typed, I had to sit up high to reach the desktop. That made my upper half happy but my lower half utterly miserable.

Being a shorter person on a now-taller chair meant that my feet were not planted firmly on the floor. Instead they sort of dangled, or tried to rest on the chair wheels, or were propped up straight on a bar stool, putting my body in a jack-knife position that was making my chiropractor very wealthy. If I tried using a footstool at the proper height, I just ended up pushing myself away from the desk because of those chair wheels. To avoid rolling, I would subconsciously clench every muscle, further injuring my lower back.

My chiropractor suggested I find a chair with a built-in foot ring or foot bar. Great idea! That would allow me to support my feet while sitting high enough to reach the desk. But height wasn’t my only problem. I needed a shallow seat pan. Sitting far back in the deep seat caused a lot of pressure on, and cut the circulation in, my thighs. I sometimes relieved this thigh pain by alternating between the chair and one of those stability balls you get at Pilates studios. The ball felt like heaven on the butt and thighs but didn’t support my back, so I could only use it for 30 minutes at a time.

I visited an office chair company and pointed out the chair I wanted to buy from their online catalogue. It had a nice “waterfall” seat to relieve thigh pressure, a shallow seat pan option, lumbar support and a built-in foot bar! Sadly, I was told: “I don’t know why that chair is in our catalogue. We don’t have it.” And I never did find out where I could find it.

On another store’s website I came across the most magnificent invention, a little foot stool that actually attaches to any office chair, so I would never roll away from it. I drove to the store, but apparently I had visited the store’s American site and was told the product was only available in the U.S.

I contacted a salesperson from an ergonomic chair company who, at first, seemed excited about helping me, then vanished after I asked about a shallow seat pan. I hit that kind of a brick wall at every turn.

Meanwhile, ergonomist Jane Sleeth of Optimal Performance Consultants very kindly recommended a few companies that offer “petite” seating. My problem was that even a petite seat shallow enough for my small frame, would have to be jacked up to its maximum height to reach my damned Land-of-the-Giants desk.

One day, at my wits’ end, I raided the basement for a pair of platform shoes I had worn for Halloween. They’re very cute (black with straps, and orange and pink paisley insoles) and make me much taller. If I couldn’t make the floor higher, I reasoned, I could pretend to be a long-legged office worker for a day. That actually worked, to a point. Conducting serious telephone interviews in platform shoes just didn’t feel professional. Besides, every time I walked to the kitchen for a coffee break I was in danger of twisting my ankle on a rug or hitting my head on a light fixture.

The saviour of this story is my little brother, Dan. It occurred to me, finally, that all of this misery was because my desk was too tall. Dan, always up for a challenge, agreed to come over with his power saw. We put on dust masks, tilted the colossal desk over and, in less than two hours, Dan had cut 4 ½ inches off all four sides of my desk.

I am now writing to you from munchkin heaven. My chair is at its lowest setting, and my feet are so happily planted on the floor they’re tapping away to a tune in my head.

As for my chair, it’s still too deep, but for now I’m using a back cushion. As soon as work slows down I plan to raid Toronto’s ergonomic furniture stores, starting with those recommended by Jane Sleeth. I feel sorry for those salespeople, but I promise to sing their praises if any of them can find me, at long last, the perfect chair.

Michelle Morra
Freelance journalist
and former COS editor