Last week, after a rather long and stressful day, I was feeling overwhelmed by my lengthy to-do list.
In need of a motivational kick to get my ass in gear, I took one look at my cluttered workspace and the thing needed most was suddenly clear: another desk.
IKEA was calling my name ...
One phone call to my boyfriend, Ben, and he was game for my IKEA adventure … notice I said ‘game,’ not excited. But pretty soon my helpful boyfriend was running late, taking his time and just “about to hop in the shower,” so I assured him I’d be more than happy to go it alone.
Moments later, I received this text: “Be there in 10”
Guess my transformation to Monster Girlfriend was heard loud and clear.
Now I don’t have a domestic bone in my body, but once we’ve landed at IKEA – I’m June Cleaver. I’m running from kitchens to bathrooms; and everything in between. And on the lower level, I’m a force to be reckoned with. Everything I see, I’ve gotta have: wastebaskets, magazine rack, pencil holders, desk organizer, vintage desk lamps … and the list continues. Ben insists he carries it all, more than likely out of pure fear post my more recent monstrous episode. At one point I literally look back and he’s so buried underneath my newfound “must- haves” that all I can see is the very tip of his baseball cap. What a team player.
Now he’s steering the fully-loaded moving cart while I direct him to the appropriate Self-Service aisle. And soon, car loaded and unloaded again (Ben’s doing) we are home, and the desk put together. I’ll give you one guess as to who made that happen.
But in the midst of an IKEA aftermath, I couldn’t help but think - what exactly did I do before relationship status?
And then, IKEA: the homeowner’s heaven or the single girl’s hell?
I’m reminded of my boss’ adventure to IKEA months ago. Boss was looking to purchase one large desk for another office. Heading to IKEA solo, she browsed the selection before she found the one. Jotted it down, and made moves to the Self-Service section, which for the record is the equivalent of a Toys R Us when we were just kids. My boss, coming in on the shorter side, finally made her way to the desk’s location – and once here; found herself in the crosshairs of one unfortunate dilemma.
The desk was on the very top shelf, and my tiny boss was shit out of luck. After countless attempts to reach it, a few steps back to analyze the situation, and a few choice words she made her way to the first guy donning IKEA attire.
Boss- “How does this delivery thing work?”
IKEA- “We’d be happy to deliver whatever you need, if you’ll just roll it down to us we’ll load it and deliver it wherever”
Boss- “So, even if I pay to have you guys deliver this desk to me, I still have to drag it down off the shelves, load it onto one of those rolling carts, and roll it to you? And then, you’ll deliver it to me?
IKEA- “Yes Mam”
Boss- “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
IKEA- “I’m sorry?”
Boss- “WHAT IS THE POINT?”
Confused IKEA guy attempts to decipher this conversation thus far
Boss- “This place is anti- the single woman!”
IKEA- “I’m sorry?”
Boss- “If I had a boyfriend he could pull my desk down off the shelf, he could load it onto one of these carts, and HE could deliver for me. Isn’t that correct?"
IKEA- “I suppose so”
Boss- “Exactly, so what is the point?”
After a second of silence …
IKEA- “Is your name Brittney?”
Fast-forward to my IKEA adventure; could I have loaded and moved that desk all by myself? And even if I had, there’s a pretty good chance the building process would still be pending. But as I sit here, writing at my new desk, I have to admit having a boyfriend is clutch for such endeavors.
So axe flowers, candy, and even furry friends; as it happens, the way to this girl’s heart: manual labor.
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