I am moving in two weeks, and part of that process is buying some new pieces of furniture. Nothing mysterious here: I am going to IKEA. I really dig the company’s furniture designs (and the meatballs from the dinning hall), and the notoriously bare instructions don’t flummox me one bit. It’s about convenience, too: for an impatiently anxious person like me, it’s helpful to do all the furniture shopping at one place.
However, there’s a problem: the bloody pandemic. It seems I am amongst the many with grand moving plans during these times (waving goodbye to the folks leaving this great state of California), so there’s a bit of a shortage at IKEA. Friends of mine went there a few weeks ago in hopes to buy some pieces, but returned home empty handed because the ones they want were on backorder. I’ve got my fingers crossed that in two weeks’ time I won’t encounter the same fate, though I’m quite okay placing the mattress on the floor for some time (hashtag bachelor life).
I don’t need that much new furniture anyways, just a bed frame and a large bookshelf. Ever since I read Marie Kondo I’ve tried to keep personal items to a minimal, so in terms of what I need to buy and what I need to move, I don’t really have that much relative to the typical person. Except for books: I am a cruel tyrant to trees because I refuse to stop buying books in paper form, rather than the far more ecological digital format. If I didn’t have physical books, I can move everything I have (sans furniture) in two suitcases.
The 1st of November cannot come fast enough; my impatiently anxious self is eager to get this change done and move on to other beautiful things.
A pair of rabbits.