Today I spent five hours attempting to assemble Ikea furniture while also drinking beer.
I decided to document it because, well, I knew it probably wouldn’t end well (at least for the furniture). It’s a departure from my normal blogs in that it’s mainly photos and maybe the “odd” video of me fighting a losing battle, so here goes…
It’s surprising how much you can fit into a Fiat 500 and please note the six pack of beer because I had a sneaky suspicion that I might need it.
I had to carry this box, which weighed more than 30 kilograms, up a flight stairs to get to my new “writing room”. It was 30-plus degrees today with high humidity so that was really fun. I also am so awesome that I didn’t ask anyone to help me. What a superstar.
This was the moment I realised that the instruction booklet for my new writing desk ran to more than 20 pages and I didn’t own a flat head screwdriver. So I decided to have a beer.
Even though the instructions are in English they might as well have been in Swedish and I soon realised that I’d put the “sidey, rolley bits” for the desk drawers on backwards.
One of the top moments of the day was surely realising that I had put the top of the desk on backwards and would need to de-construct almost the whole fucken thing. So, here I am pondering whether my life has any meaning, and whether I am in fact a dumbass.
After “successfully” assembling my new writing table, from which a plethora of Pultizer and Oscar-winning stories will no doubt be created, I see that the drawers are a little off-kilter and I am a victim of premature celebration. So, after nearly three hours, because I was clearly winning, I decide I might as well assemble the book-shelf. Here’s what happened not long after…
I’d had about four beers by this stage so I decided to take an Ikea “Kallax” reflection selfie.
I must admit that having beers makes the whole Ikea process much more enjoyable but you also get a little distracted. Such as this photo when I realised that my lady-bird was on a precarious lean. I knew the feeling.
While listening to some very good, and increasingly loud, tunes I had a moment when I thought I was the Ikea Queen. This is a piece of piss I thought while simultaneously dancing in my study. Then I realised that my joy was about to be curtailed by the dreaded Ikea hinges.
And then this. I mean, what the fuck is this supposed to mean?
So the “ghost hand” freaked me out so much I had to do this.
Then I spent an hour trying to decipher how to turn two of the empty spaces in my book shelf into cupboards and, well, seriously fucked it up. I have never been so confused in my life. So here is the denouement of my efforts. What a glorious victory!
Sure beats the blog I was going to write about my ex coming around to pick up his furniture.
HILArious. Thanks for sharing. Great that you can laugh at yourself.
Thanks Becky! You have to laugh because it does seem overly complicated (although beer seemed to make it easier or perhaps I just stopped trying so hard!)