I hate Ikea, usually

One of the least enjoyable things I can imagine doing is going to Ikea. The fact that millions of people go there “for fun” is quite beyond by comprehension. There’s almost nothing I’d rather do less.

So yesterday, when we embarked upon our annual trip to Ikea, for the pre-xmas purchases, I knew I was in for a rough time.

Here’s my problem with the whole Ikea thing:

  • I feel like a sheep being herded where I don’t want to go. The arrows on the floor, a helpful reminder of my need to go where I ought to go, and do as you’re told.
  • That they make it hard to get to any place where you’re not currently standing – fancy going back to get that thing you forgot 10 minutes ago? Forget it!
  • The helpless looks on the faces of people like me who are there under duress. Next time you go, you will see them. Look for any group of people. Chances are that one of them is there because they “have to” be there. They’re like me. They don’t want to be there and every single muscle in their face is screaming – get me out of here, my kingdom for a horse.
  • The unlimited potential to buy things that you neither need nor really want. You know that this is true. How many times have you bought that sock-tidying-widget that you thought would change your life? It’s now in the bin, and your socks are all over the place. An anticipated bill of £150 turns into £563.58 without you even realising it. I swear the staff at the checkout have been trained to show a steely, no emotion, face. Deep down, they know your plight. They’ve been there, but they have to put food on the table and so must give zero sympathetic vibes out.

Having said all of that, I went yesterday, and enjoyed it.

I have no idea what’s wrong with me. Perhaps it’s my age. A bump on the head that I don’t remember?

I bought more than I wanted. I saw the people who did not want to be there, thought about starting a self-help group, but just walked on by.

I paid the bill, which, yes, was larger than I’d imagined. Then I walked out, safe and sound, and got on with my day.

My socks are still untidy, but my cutlery is SO organised.