Spike had a day off yesterday.
This is a momentous thing. Rockers/roofers do not get days off between Easter and Thanksgiving. They tour and roof and tour and roof and practice and tour and roof, and then roof some more. Case in point - today another tour begins.
But yesterday - YESTERDAY - Spike had a day off.
So I left work early so that we could have a romantic few hours together.
(pause to snort cynically)
We went to Ikea.
You may recall our flooded basement. The stuff piled in the dining area all summer long. The porch replacement. The plumbing. The roofing. The loss of table and chairs.
The Domino Effect Theory states that in order to find a new table and chairs, we must finish cleaning out the dining room, but in order to do that, we must sort through the piles of crud that are there and consider what our reason is for keeping said piles. Then we must have a plan for making those piles look less like piles of crud in the basement, and more like productive and/or decorative and/or meaningful parts of our lives, and in order for THAT to happen - we need a storage solution.
Thus ... Ikea.
We went in with fair-to-middlin' hopes. Having been married as long as we have, we were under no illusions about instantly discovering and agreeing upon "the perfect thing" when it comes to furnishing our home. I, for instance, was thinking of dollar-store baskets for organizing our stuff. Spike, on the other hand, was picturing custom-built wall units.
We walked for miles. Took notes. Opened, closed, raised, lowered, and slid to the side various cabinet doors. Converted metric to imperial, over and over again.
We negotiated shiny white vs. beech laminate. Considered separate vacations. Walked away from one another. Sighed. Came back. Solved world hunger. Got distracted by duvet covers, tables and chairs, sofabeds, big-screen TV's, wall hooks, shoe shelves, pots and light fixtures. Had a coffee.
Examined the cinnamon buns - twice - and decided that there was no way they were going to taste good, no matter how much we wanted them to.
We laughed at first over furniture systems with names like Tjusig and Slatthult, and then it wasn't funny anymore, and we didn't want to see one more Malm, or Melltorp, or Skydda, and I began to rage over the entire concept of "furniture systems".
Peed twice. Almost gave up entirely. And then we made a decision. (yay!)
Circled the store twice more, missing the tiny little shortcuts out. More distractions. Got to the warehouse, where Spike rode a cart wildly up and down the rows, while we searched for Bins 12, 16 and 32 in Aisles 12 and 14.
Realized that during one of the distractions, we had set down the Grip door handles somewhere unknown. Spike went back to find them, while I waited in the middle of the warehouse, mildly catatonic. (A complete stranger checked to see if I was OK!)
Went to the checkout line. Noted that one of the boxes had been previously opened - unacceptable. Back to the warehouse.
Back to the checkout line. Total cost seemed low. Let's see.... we need 2 units, 2 handle packs, and 2 doors - nope - 4 doors! %$ nyttja *#
Back to the warehouse.
Back to the checkout line.
Out the door. Loaded up the car. Went home. Began assembly. And discovered that the box which replaced the already-opened box ironicly had a damaged piece in it, and must be returned.
@#*& barnslig *%(* grundtal #*$* !!!!!!!!!!