Our Saturday started at Ikea, which is always a good sign that the rest of the weekend will be filled with stress and swearing. We were looking to buy a small table for our lounge room, primarily for one of our cats (Buster) to sit on, or should I say somewhere to put our laptops so Buster won’t sit on them. We had selected a simple pair of nestled tables from the new Ikea catalogue, but when we found them in the store we managed to convince ourselves that they were too low, and that the measurements we had taken must have been wrong. So we chose something else…
Just in case you’re wondering, I managed to resist a pre-9:30am $2.50 bargain Ikea breakfast, although it doesn’t come with carb-laden toast so maybe I should have given in. Of course I also had to resist the temptation of a hotdog on the way out – how much badness can there possibly be in something that only costs $1? I checked my list of allowed vegetables, but couldn’t find a 25-cent soft serve ice-cream cone, jam doughnut or a massive bag of Daim. Damn.
I thought that the relatively small and simple table (actually a desk with some storage shelves on the end) would be within my capabilities, and I was surprisingly correct. It took me about an hour-and-a-half to build, and yes, there was some swearing but it wouldn’t be flat-pack assembly without it – at least I now know the Swedish for “how the fuck am I meant to line all of these up at once?”
Unfortunately the finished product was way too high for its intended space, so much for second guessing ourselves. The result of all my hard work has now been buried in the spare room, next to the ironing board and under some boxes we can’t be bothered to throw out. Oh well, tomorrow’s another day…
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