Of sewn-together fingers and hermetically sealed shelf pegs

Well, the masochism continues.

Lest this start looking like an Ikea Sucks blog (which it isn't--I owe the bulk of my worldly possessions to Ikea), let me say that I think it's a great store.

It's not you, Ikea, it's me. Somewhere between your flatbox- contained- self- assembled- cartoon- explained- sustainable- wood- scandinavian- uber coolness and my spazmodic uselessness, you hurt me. I know you don't mean to. But you do.

I decided that I really need a sewing/painting centre in the spare bedroom. So me and the husband took a trip to the local Allen key mecca. Four hours, three trips, and one broken cell phone later, we were on our way home with my new IVAR activity centre. (Cell phone was dropped when trying to pry shelving unit into back seat of Toyota Echo that is same length as shelving unit.)

Here's how bad the IVAR instructions are: there are none. There are side rails, some shelves with runners on them, and some hermetically sealed steel pegs that I guess you're supposed to use to prop open your eyelids as you work frantically into the early hours of morning. Don't even get me started on the cross-brace.

The really ironic part of this self-imposed torture, though, is that once I finally succeed in assembling this unit, I will use it to operate a machine with a large needle capable of puncturing surfaces (like fingers) hundreds of times in mere seconds. If you don't hear from me for a while, send bandaids and a stitch-remover.

p.s. Wanted to post a photo of IVAR the Terrible, but blogger's photo tool is all pooped up again.