One where the toddler cannot grasp any number of cords and play giddy-up with them. Or pull down the flap on the printer, stash away some food, and retrieve it several hours later.
The old set-up had been cramped for a while. And I kind of said in a workspace safety audit review I did earlier in the year as part of my graphic design course, that I'd purchased a new cabinet that meant operating the printer (which had been basically at floor level) was now ergonomic.
It was the first piece of flat pack furniture I've assembled myself. Being married to a fitter means I'm generally relegated to unfolding the instructions, which never get read, passing tools/screws/'the f***en top bit' and bearing audio witness to streams of obscenities flat pack projects inevitably elicit.
Granted, the table needed a bit of expert touching-up once the fitter arrived home. Gratifyingly, he resorted to power tools for the adjustments.
All in all, I'm happy with the result. Of course it remains to be seen whether it leads to any increase in the amount of work actually done.
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