This is what I did today:IKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEA
IKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEAIKEA
or maybe it just felt like IKEA sucked up my entire Sunday.
You know, there is an IKEA about a mile from my house, but here in the bluest county in the bluest state, we have, oddly enough, blue laws, so our big stores and malls are not permitted to be open on Sunday. Were we at the local IKEA yesterday? Why, yes, yes we were. But for reasons having to do with an already full tiny car, we did not buy R's new bed. Instead, we went to the area's original IKEA this morning, which is some 30 to 40 minutes from here, in Elizabeth Seaport.
(Elizabeth Seaport, btw, the major seaport in the NY/NJ area, is located across the New Jersey Turnpike's eight lanes from Newark Airport and the major Amtrak line through the northeast corridor, and is one of the ports currently under controversy and subject to immediate takeover by the United Arab Emirates. Also, there's an IKEA there.)
We got there a little after 11:00. Even though we knew exactly what we wanted and didn't cruise the showroom, by the time we waited on the lines
- to place the order for the bed
- to pay for it at the cashier
- for it to come out of the warehouse on a cart (it was not a self-serve item in this store)
it was about 1:00. Getting it into the tiny car was no picnic, let me tell you. A nice IKEA man in a red jacket shoved it in there for us, but there was no seat left for R, so she had to sit Indian-style on the floor in the back. We drove right over to her apartment.It took approximately the next six days to assemble the damn thing. Okay, a few hours. One piece, of course, went in wrong and wouldn't come out, and a whole bunch of other things that needed to be screwed together ... well, the screws just didn't seem long enough. What. Ever. Sometimes, that do-it-yourself shit can be a real pain in the ass. She was getting more and more annoyed with it, but to her credit, didn't blow up at me, but suggested at one point I might want to sit in the other room for awhile. Heh. Why would she blow up at me? Because no matter how old she is, she is the kid and I am the mom. I'm guessing it doesn't work that way for lots of people. Maybe just for all the people I know.
Okay, then a short Target run. At this point, we had not eaten all day since breakfast and were somewhat famished, not to mention worn out. (I had mostly kept her company while she was assembling, handing her things, steadying boards, and so on. It was mostly boring.)
Now we are home, after picking up dinner on the way. First thing was the Sunday phone call to K, who, if you ask me, is about the most intense student who ever lived. Honestly, how is this kid going to cope with the work of being a classroom teacher? She'll burn herself out in a week and a half.
Anyway, it's damn cold out there today, and I feel like I never want to go out in it again. I want to lie down flat somewhere under a dozen down comforters. Speaking of which, here's an amusing moment I had earlier today:
You know, I'm not sure how I feel on the subject of people wearing fur. On the one hand, it seems unnecessary and possibly cruel, but on the other hand, I'm just not sure. Hubs the Vegan is, of course, very sure on this issue, although I don't know if he would say something rude to a person wearing fur. (What am I saying, of course he would.) I wouldn't, although I guess people who wear fur must be getting used to that by now.
So I was at the Whole Foods (aka, upscale supermarket in snooty town) and I was waiting at the deli/prepared foods counter, and there was a woman standing next to me, also waiting, in a knee-length mink coat. We were just standing there, side by side, waiting our turns, but it would have been really hard not to notice this coat. And I smiled, and said the only thing that really came to mind: "Gee, you look warm." She smiled too, and said she was actually freezing wherever the coat didn't cover, but the coat itself was warm. I mean really, what purpose would it have served if I had started yelling "Murderer!" right there at the deli counter? I was way too cold for any of that shit.
