J & I spent yesterday in our PJs, not daring to brave the (rain) STORM OF THE CENTURY. Today, I had to get out of the house. 850 square feet does not hold enough to entertain me for more than a day.
So, J & I went to see some open houses. First, we stopped at Panera, where the milk steamer was broken, turning my $4 pumpkin latte into a $4 regular coffee. Not a good omen.
Next came a long detour, followed by two open houses by the same Realtor (who also ran the open house of the 888 sf 3 bedroom I saw a few weeks ago. Yes, it was as small as it sounds.) Both needed things we can’t afford to give them. Like kitchens.
Having spent over 24 hours with J, who has a cold that requires rolls of toilet paper Kleenex and lots of sniffling & whining, we then parted ways. I went to Ikea, J went home to nap.
I should preface this by saying that, while I love shopping, I strongly dislike people. Ikea is not a good combination of these two. Its only 20 minutes from my house, but I don’t go often, because of the people. There’s just too many of them, and the vast majority think its okay to run into you with their shopping cart, or stop in the middle of the aisle. I can understand why. Ikea can be scary, especially if you’ve never been. For example, I always go upstairs first, even if I don’t need to. Today, I took a shortcut, and had to walk back to where I started just so I could see everything in the correct order. It makes my anal retentive mind go nutty.
As an aside, the first time I went to Ikea, J came with me, and vowed never to come back. The second time, I went with my mom, while J & my dad sat at the bar and waited for us to check out (45 minutes) and get out of the parking lot (75 minutes).
So, I meandered the aisles, found a few pieces of furniture for when we find a house, bought $30 worth of stuff I don’t actually need, and waited in line for 25 minutes while debating putting everything back and saying screw it. I also watched the little boy in front of me devour a cinnamon bum, hot dog, and bag of chips, and wondered if he could take my debit card and fetch me some swedish meatballs.
I bought my stuff, forked over the nickel for the plastic bag to carry it out in. I opted for the stairs rather than the flat escalator for carts, and boy, am I glad I did! I started hearing people on the escalator saying “walk backwards!” and when I got to the bottom I could see there was a small pile up. I think a cart hit a little girl, and her dad was not happy. He kept yelling, and the woman who ran his child over kept saying “It was an accident!” and he kept yelling, “It would have happened if you weren’t so stupid!” Unfortunately, we did not get to fisticuffs, although another pileup almost occured, due to the original pile up people ranting at each other.
Then I got in my car, got flicked off for yelling at someone driving on the wrong side of the parking lot (newsflash: you still have to follow traffic rules in a parking lot), and headed home to a bottle of wine and more episodes of House Hunters. I’m much happier now.