IKEA

Oh IKEA, how I wanted to love you. How I wanted to understand your pull of Scandinavian furniture with no help of understanding the directions to put it together. How I wanted to understand refabs from Pinterest.

Saturday was not the day to try to do this.

Joe and I found ourselves today, just outside of Pittsburgh, face to face with our first IKEA ever. Neither of us had been in one. We'd go in hopeful and come out disappointed in our lack of...well, being hipsters. Or college students. Or expecting a baby. (Maybe that was just me.) Or all of the above.

I wanted to make a go of it. What's this? Little golf pencils and I write down what I want before actually getting it? A maze of displays that are never ending? (This I actually knew about.) What? $3.99 for a plate of Swedish meatballs, mashed potatos and ligonberries? Absurd.

Joe went to the bathroom which is where things went wrong. That and I only had $10 to my name. I knew I should have gotten that Auntie Anne's pretzel instead...

There'll be another day (preferably a Tuesday) where while we'll still not fit into skinny jeans and dark framed glasses, I'll actually succeed in getting some things from IKEA. Hopefully, many things. Hopefully still with $10. No, I'll probably have actual money befor attempting this again. That and Joe's not allowed to go to the bathroom (He said it was unbearably hot in there.) and I'll drive. AND maybe I'll settle him with some Swedish meatballs. Everyone loves those, right?