I feel like here should be a big sign over me that says, ‘Warning Irrationally Grumpy Woman’.
There’s no reason for this. I had a lovely weekend. My husband and I went to IKEA to look for a unit to put the new TV on. We’d never been there before. As we drove under the building and saw the miles of parking that went on and on, we both burst out laughing. I guess you had to be there.
We nearly got lost walking around. I felt like we should both be wearing proximity beepers so we could track each other down. There were young families, middle aged couples and even teenagers who had been dragged along by their parents. The place seemed to cater to every demographic.
Then, just to be sure we’d savoured the whole IKEA experience, we stopped in their coffee shop and my husband had Swedish Meatballs (which seemed just like Australian meatballs to me) and I had pasta.
As we sat there eating the glass wall beside us looked out over the escalator which just keep pouring people from the entrance, up to the first floor showroom like the shop was an insatiable animal devouring customers. And don’t get me started on the huge stock room out the back, where you select your flat-pack furniture. The shelves went up three storeys high. I could stage a post apocalypse story there. (Even when writers don’t appear to be working, they are working).
On the whole, it was a very interesting experience, made all the more fun because we went there together and we could catch eachother’s eye and share a secret smile.
So I shouldn’t be grumpy. I really shouldn’t.
By the way, we bought our new TV unit. My husband spent a couple of hours putting it together and he only had one screw left over. I’m sure they do that just to mess with your mind.