IKEA and School... 8:30 p.m. 2005-08-01
Next week, I will be back in school for pre-planning. I am still in denial. I have what seems like a luxurious, long summer, and I certainly don't object to going back to school, but it's not real yet.
I has not yet sunk in that all of my worldly school belongings have been carted and dumped in my new classroom: refrigerator unplugged, books piled willy-nilly into boxes by my faithful teaching assistant - with no where to place them as I have no shelves in my new room! - all in disarray, hopeless... Maybe I do have shelves, but not a lot of them. And, last time I checked, three boxes were still in my old room. I owe the custodians vanilla cake with chocolate icing, but nothing doing until it is all moved!!!
Recently, too, I have this fantasy of finally having my dream room: I have gotten many ideas from IKEA, and saw some precious chairs at WalMart today. I am actually going in tomorrow to scope out the situation again and take measurements, and to visualize things. I actually will have windows ( I have not had outside windows in three years), so I am thinking plants.
Okay, speaking of IKEA. Yesterday, I compulsively made my third trip to the mother store. I even convinced my husband to go with me.
WHAT WAS I THINKING?!!!!!!
IKEA, on a Sunday, in a new venue, is apparently a nightmare! We got stuck in what seemed like a traffic jam trying to get into the parking garage. So, like many others, I did a U-Turn on the boulevard, and parked in the auxiliary parking lot. As my husband and I scoped the situation out, we acertained that there were two ways to get from here to there: One was the low road, which went across a railroad track (we could see a chain of support people helping old ladies over retaining fences and ditches - and of course, over the tracks!) - and the other was up a 45 degree grade - footpaths damning the side to erosion- and crossing the bridge over the railroad trestle. We chose the latter, and I chalked that up as my exercise for the day.
When we got in, the place was a zoo - but an organized zoo. I gave up on using the lower level restroom, and led my good-natured husband up the escalator. We walked through the decorative maze, and he made interested and pertinent comments about the workmanship. He was particularly interested in the computer and desk equipment.
By the way, I was there for a reason: I had decided to organize my old photographs and memorabilia. I was seeking suitable photo storage boxes and some magazine files to organize my office. I also wanted to try the Almondy Tortes that I had been speculating on - they are gluten-free, and I am always on the lookout for a gluten-free dessert for my brother-in-law!
By the time we got to the checkout line, my husband had had all he could take of IKEA. Unfortunately, the end was nowhere in sight. First, I got into one of those Automated lines. I left my husband there, while I foraged for food samples and Almondy Tortes. After my husband wolfed down the two shortbread cookies with hazelnut filling, he then complained that he was thirsty. I espied one of the 22 oz. cup dispensers at the checkout, but he would not go fill it - partly because he thought the long line at the snack bar was for the drink dispenser, and partly because he suspected I wasn't going to pay for the drinks... Pollyanna!
He finally decided to go to the door and sit and wait for me. I then changed lines for two reasons: I realized I had over 10 items, and last time my friend Marcia used the electronic check out, it was slow and confusing. While in line, I picked up a couple of other items: $2.99 blue and yellow umbrellas and colorful zippered pencil holders as awards for my students, among other things.
When I finally got to the Checkout, we hastily bagged out items, and then I went to get two fresher, still frozen Almondy Tortes: one plain, and one chocolate. I also grabbed a 22 oz. cup and got some Lingonberry soda for my dehydrated and traumatized hubby. We made a wise decision to take the shuttle back to our auxiliary parking lot. My husband says that, now that he has been to IKEA, he doesn't need to go again.
On the way home, Almondy Tortes trying not to melt in a hot cooler chest, he asked that we stop at Guitar Center.
That is what we call payback, ladies.
I could not say no, so I pulled over, and hoped that our purchases would not be liquid by the time I got home. It was my lucky day.
As we started our looking, I spied my husband's best friend down the aisle. Thinking very quickly, I invited him to dinner. Then, I suggested that best friend and husband continue their guitar-looking, while I drove home and started dinner.
Aren't I brilliant?
I will write more later. I have just started reading French Women Don't Get Fat. I have only one thing to leave you with:
© Tiedyefor 2003