Trapped

Trapped. 

I made a trip to IKEA the other day as I'm wanting to make one of the bedrooms in our new house an office/craft room. I had seen several pieces on-line that I thought might work, and I was wanting to check them out in person. 

Now I should preface this posting with the fact that I have never really liked IKEA. It has nothing to do with the selection or quality of the merchandise. In fact, I think they have some really cool choices at reasonable prices. It's the store itself that I can't stand. I'm not sure I ever realized that I had claustrophobic tendencies before I made my first visit. 

When you first innocently enter you are taken aback by all the cute micro-living environments, and how cleverly they are decorated. You don't for one second know what you've actually gotten yourself into. Instead of turning and running for your life you just keep taking the next step, until you are about 10,000 paces in, and find it impossible to escape. 

When I visited last week I had a goal in mind, and spent about forty minutes jotting down furniture choices, and taking photos. I was actually enjoying myself, and thought possibly that I may have mistakenly misjudged IKEA. As I continued along the way passing by the lamp department, the rug department, the dish department, the pet department I found that sinking feeling begin to creep in again. They had sucked me into the maze of Swedish wonders and had left me for dead. 

Although, they did have the good sense to put the cafeteria in the middle, even the lure of an IKEA veggie ball gave me no comfort. By this time I've realized that I've lost my LIST!  You know the one I had just spent forty minutes perfecting. I knew I had to turn around and go back into the belly of the beast to find that dang piece of paper.  

Even though the entrance was in sight, and it took everything I had not to run toward the light, I slowly turned and retraced my steps. All along finding myself becoming increasingly hot and uncomfortable. Praise the Lord I found my list lying conspicuously alone on the light-up arrow concrete path. I as well was conspicuously going against the Swedish grain of cooperation and conformity. Who does that! I quickly retrieved it, said a quick prayer of thanks, and hurriedly made my way out. 

Now I know I will probably have to return soon to make the final decisions about what I need for my new room. I may have to mentally prepare myself for the event, or hang out more in my walk-in closet as training for my claustrophobia. I guess the only silver lining to this story is that my room is going to look really AWESOME by the time I'm through.