IKEA

Finally, and for the first time, I started to live on my own. I was feeling creative and excited. Living by myself meant that I had all the freedom to decorate, cook, wander around the house naked and grab things up from the floor with my toes, judgement free.

I became inspired by dozens of images and ideas. I gathered my Disney guilty pleasures, my Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings geekness, and drove myself to IKEA without a paper list and with a fertile and fluttering imagination. What a terrible mistake.

The shopping cart already had everything I did’t need it: a funnel, extra silverware, bamboo bowls, candles and Christmas lights. In case of, who knows, the power going out. I was looking for the yellow carpet, to the bathroom, when my phone rang. I don’t know how because the service is pretty weak at all the IKEA stores here, but it rang.

On the other side, a trembling, crying voice announced bad news. I swallowed hard and walked away from the center of the corridor, as if leaning on the side of the road, and the call dropped. Two disobedient tears scratched my make-up. I looked around, panicked, and insisted on the phone calls. I argued, questioned, gestured, cried and the call dropped again. I can’t remember what I said or the details of what I heard.

A buzzing gripped my head and my body went numb. History was repeating itself. I remembered everything I had already overcome and saw the same well, in which we all sank in sadness, at the end of that memory. I thought of the worst, as we all do when frightened, when someone cut off my thinking and asked me if I was okay.

I stared at the yellow-clad human being and remembered the rug that led me there. I answered him with a fast smile, nodded and walked on. I finished the payment without knowing what I had bought, the carpet was there. Mission accomplished.

When the service came back, I sat on the phone. The uncertainties and doubts were even bigger. I opened a bottle of wine, called two friends, and forgot the rest of the night.

The next morning, the army was complete. Even though devoid of guns and courage, we were all ready for battle. Everyone, all together.