"Even if I got rid of all my problems, I'd just go out and get new ones..."

Ikea, Scandanavian for "Fuck this!"
9:48 p.m. on 2003-10-03

Ah, Ikea. Yet another place where time moves at an entirely different speed to the rest of the universe.

Arrived at 11am with a plan. Literally and figuratively. Yes, I had drawn out my room, on graph paper, with cut outs of the furniture stuck down with blu-tack. Unfortunately, since we'd drawn the damn thing when I was jetlagged and my mother was missing her glasses, the measurements were a little, uh, off. So we spent the first hour sat on a sofa poring over the design and leafing through the Ikea catologue trying to work out exactly what we wanted.

Can I just say, that sofa? Very comfy. It comes highly recommended.

Having decided on what we wanted, we then went to order it. Which, uh, isn't as simple as one might think. First, you need to work out what you want and write it down on a list. Fair enough. Then, you head down to the basement to pick up the wanted items. Not so easy.

Ikea claims that to keep its prices so low, it skips the part other shops might deem neccessary - such as employees who know what they're doing, or signs that are for the product lying beneath them, or actually having the product in stock.

It took us long enough to find the neccessary shelves, side units, and cupboards that would eventually form one massive wall unit. It was then up to me to heft the bloody things onto our two trolleys, unaided by my mother, who had decided that stillettos were the best thing to wear to a furniture shop.

Honestly, I know she likes to appear attractive all the time, but come on!

Having found what we wanted, and gone for a compromise on the CD cabinets (no, they weren't the right colour, but at least they were in stock), we then headed to the checkout. Where the trolley had to be unloaded so the bored looking shop assistant could scan every item. The stuff was then loaded back onto the trolley, and steered about fifty yards to the home delivery section, where it was unloaded for a second time for a different woman to scan the items.

We left at 4pm, five hours after our arrival, complete with splitting headaches and some weird metal poles which are supposed to reinforce the shelving units. Which should arrive on Sunday.

And then I decorate! Am most excited, given that my previous experience of interior design amounts to changing the lamp shade. I suspect by the time I have sanded the woodwork, repainted the ceiling, and peeled the wallpaper, the prospect of repainting the woodwork and walls won't look so appealing.

And lets not even get into the whole, build-it-yourself Ikea furniture.

Tomorrow, my friends and I go shopping for bridesmaid dresses. Louise's wedding is actually not until next September, but given our different sizes and tastes, this may be a mammoth task. Blood will likely be shed and I suspect we may have turned to alcohol by the end.

Lord help us...

Listening to: Barenaked Ladies - Be My Yoko Ono.

Quote: "I may be a very ordinary human, but I make a very sexy hobbit."

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