There are few places on earth where you can buy a bed and Swedish meatballs. Or curtains and lox.
I have a love/hate relationship with the megastore, IKEA. Ever since reading Corderoy as a kid, I have wanted to get locked overnight in a department store. IKEA would be the perfect place; its model apartments would provide hours joyful exploration. And you could have an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord. Amazing and incredible! I’m going during the day, though, so there’s no chance that I will be left behind by my owner and get to do that. A girl can dream, right?
Also, it makes me think about what my life would be like if it were “better.” What if I had less stuff? Or if my house were clean? Or if I didn’t move every year and could actually bolt stuff to the walls? Would I be organized enough to fit my family into a wall-less 400 sq. ft. home?
haha Definitely not. No matter what. Ever.
There is another part of me that is always wondering if the quality is good enough, why they cover everything in plastic veneer, and how badly the environment was damaged to create what sits before me. And somehow, I still want to purchase almost everything. In the past, I’ve spent so long there, that I’ve left completely dehydrated with a headache and sore feet. I now bring a bottle of water and Advil and wear comfy shoes.
Tomorrow, I brave IKEA once again, and I’m going to ignore those aforementioned thoughts in order to buy this bed:
We have been sleeping with our mattress on the floor for 6 months, which probably doesn’t help my allergies. So I’m splurging and spending $129. Not only is the price right, but it’s one of the only things IKEA makes that is all wood. And I can be happy with that.
Throw in a lunch of meatballs and a few hours of meandering and daydreaming, and it’s a pretty perfect afternoon.