Yesterday I tried to put together a television console we had purchased for the play room.
Nothing fancy, just an Ikea clearance item we picked up a few weeks ago that I was tired of Andy giving me the annoyed face about every time he tripped over the heavy box going out to the garage.
I’m a strong, independent, 2013 woman, I can put this thing together, I thought. Plus, I really didn’t have a lot going on yesterday, our internet was being weird and I had the season finale of Royal Pains to watch.
If you saw Facebook, you already know it was kinda a shit storm.
The thing of it is, it’s really hard to follow directions when they don’t have words on them. Plus, they just assume you are assembling furniture in a sterile, childless lab.
That is just not a real world situation, Ikea.
So inspired by yesterday’s events, I decided to create a more realistic set of instructions, walking you through the physical and mental process of Swedish furniture assembly.
*Note: If you are new here, it’s important to note that I don’t know how to draw human people. Only horses. You can see more of that here.
This looks easy enough. I mean, it’s a series of squares. What’s easier to put than squares?
Step 1: Suspended Reality. You are building a piece of furniture for your home. Pioneers did this. You could not be more of an American right now.
Step 2: Frustration. 400 screws the size of bot flies, it’s like they want you to fail.
Step 3: You Feel Misunderstood. Things are rapidly spiraling out of control, furniture math is hard, and nobody seems to appreciate what you are doing. It’s 10pm, do they think you don’t want to eat dinner, also? Why are they so selfish?
Step 4: Disillusionment. Listen, we all know you didn’t have any other choice but to set that fire.