I went to Ikea this weekend.
I know, I know, I'm just about the last person in America to visit Ikea. In my defense, it's about an hour and half away. Also, I've been on the website and seen a catalog.
But nothing - I repeat, nothing - prepared me for the madness that is that store. In the first place, I didn't know it was possible for a single retail establishment to inhabit that much square footage. I've seriously been to smaller malls.
In the second place, I was there for less than a half hour before I became so overwhelmed that I couldn't even operate anymore. I wandered listlessly from one display to another wondering if I needed a giant paper light fixture or a lime green desk.
I took one of those little list papers and a tiny pencil and wrote exactly nothing on it. I went for curtains and I bought curtains (among other things) so I suppose it was a win, but I'm not sure I really remember much of went on in there.
I'm a small town girl, but I've traveled. I've been to a lot of places: New York, London, Waikiki Beach... And never, ever have I felt so small. Or country.
Or, let's face it, in love. I'd like to redecorate my whole house in Ikea, now. I'm a convert. Albeit, a small, mousey, scared convert.