Inpursuitof

As part of the moving in ritual, we went to IKEA. An event I loved as a kid, the concept now strikes utter fear and loathing into my heart. This is the stuff nightmares are made of, an endless maze of deceptively expensive, poorly-built consumerism.

The key is, I think, to approach any trip as an endurance sport event. Hydrate, take on extra calories, hydrate some more and pace yourself. Preparation is key, tactics are god. I’ll hold my hand up to going on a Friday night, specifically to avoid queues, mobs and roaming children. We took this seriously, fuelled up on super-cheap Swedish cafeteria food and got our heads down. There was a pre-arranged list, no trolleys, and a severe sense of determination. I was all for hunting down the aisle locations of the flat-packers we wanted online and skipping the whole death-run-around-the-fake-house, but she had to ‘see it in location’. A friend recently pointed out to me that there are no visible fire exits in there, a fact that will whisper in my ear next visit.

IV drips. I think that’s the way forward. We came across a girl, a casualty of the war, sat on a pile of dish drainers, hugging an ironing board and coughing pathetically. Man Down. I half expected to see a Stretcher team scurry in, start medicating and take her away. They need water stops at the very least. You get them on 5K races, and this is a damn sight harder.

About 45 minutes in, around about the TV stands, claustrophobia sets in and the options become apparent: Quit, Row or Playfight. Kids have it sorted on this front, they know the latter is the right option, and that’s why they love IKEA.

In the end, in our quest for temporary, cheap furniture, it’s worth it. You just need the right mindset to make it through.

Putting that stuff together, though, that’s a different matter…

1)     my boss, when she came back to work after her father died

2)  some daffs

3)      a girl I asked to turn her music down via mime, when I could hear her at the other end of the tube