Tuesday, March 27, 2012

A Flat-Packed Dream

Yesterday I woke up battered and bruised, aching all over and cuts stinging my hands.

I hadn't been for a big night out, I hadn't been in an accident nor did I partake in any rough bedroom shenanigans.

My maladies are in fact, a result of spending my weekend putting together (or attempting to put together) flat pack Ikea furniture.

It seems simple, and for the most part it is relatively easy to put together. But when it goes wrong, or you accidentally break of some dowel in the holes or you drop a wardrobe door on your foot - well then Ikea becomes your nemesis.

After some quick thinking (surely that bookcase doesn't need that extra screw!), much cursing and a few arguments with The Boy I have what somewhat resembles an Ikea showroom in my living room.

I say somewhat, because my sofa isn't very comfortable, there are cardboard boxes and piles of miscellaneous stuff and wires everywhere, the radiators are in the way and my rug clashes with the terracotta tiled floor.

I'm a little disappointed to be honest. Ikea sold me the dream… and I feel I've been cheated.

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