Welcome to my sit-stand desk nightmare

The term nightmare has so many meanings that it would be a nightmare to even try to list them all.

My current nightmare is a bourgeois nightmare of sorts. My Hanukkah gift to myself—a $599 sit-stand desk—had a major malfunction. A $1,000 Apple cinema display was almost lost along the way. And the desk replacement the furniture store delivered wasn't even new. Its surface was a couple of degrees off, too. And the motor sounded like it was going to explode while lifting two 27-inch Apple monitors and a 24-inch Dell screen.

I had been searching for a sit-stand desk for perhaps as long as two years. The ones I scoped out ranged from $1,500 to $3,500—a price too steep for my bank account. I stumbled onto the Scandinavian Designs model while doing a honey-do with my girlfriend. She wanted to check out a couch at the shop's East Bay, California, floor.

What I discovered at the shop was nirvana, the opposite of a nightmare. Before me appeared to be a fully functioning, sweet looking sit-stand desk costing just $599. It was right there in the retail shop—right before my eyes. Having the option of either sitting or standing while on the job would amount to the Holy Grail of a home office setup.

I picked it up from Scandinavian Designs days later, fully assembled. After using it a week or so, I even dropped in on a nice mini-file cabinet. It matched my sit-stand desk, which is said to help office workers maintain a healthier workplace lifestyle.

What I didn't know was that my middle-class nightmare would soon rear its ugly head. All of sudden, as the desk was rising, I heard a cracking sound and realized my computer monitor was about to fall onto the floor. Only the left side was rising. I didn't immediately notice it. Instead, I was daydreaming about how pimp my home office setup was.

My pimp ride had turned into a nightmare. The left side had risen about five inches higher than the right side. I had managed to lower the left side. At least I could continue using my desk, even if I had to remain seated like the rest of the rank-and-file workforce.

The furniture store worker on the other end of the phone suggested that I didn't properly assemble the desk. I replied that if the desk was assembled improperly, it wasn't my fault. I said: YOU! assembled it and charged me an extra $40 for the job.

The shop sent out a technician who looked at it briefly and called in an order for a new one.

The new desk soon arrived, and it wasn't new at all. It looked slightly used. The motor sounded like it was going to burst. The desk surface was tilted. Imagine my profanity.

It's the same desk I'm standing next to as I write this bourgeois nightmare thriller.

Another new desk is on back order and won't be delivered for a couple of months.

Welcome to my sit-stand desk nightmare.