until the guys from IKEA show up (and until they leave)

I am sitting at my dining table, fighting off that constant need to sniff or doze off due to the flu, while I wait for the people from IKEA to deliver 4 BILLY bookcases: 2 for Aaron’s room, 2 for mine. I think I did a fair enough job of making the outside of the house look semi-decent but I cannot say the same for the interior. I have a lamp + magnifying glass on the dining table, separated from it’s stand (it’s my dad’s, for work), there is a mattress leaning against the sofa in the living room (mine, the one that Lulu peed on a few months ago that needs to be disposed off). There is a chair pushed up underneath the latch that opens the main door because it’s a security system since the main lock is a bit shifty. The laundry basket is on the staircase which is barred off by a makeshift ‘child-proofing’ gate (it’s to prevent the four legged ones from going upstairs).

Yes, the house in which my family resides is less than ordinary. You can call us quirky, that’s the polite term but haphazard seems more appropriate.

The guys from IKEA just arrived. 4 different guys carefully bringing up 4 large bookcases looking highly stressed. After fifteen minutes of telling them where to place things and getting told that my brother’s room is a mess, I am sitting downstairs again wondering how long it’ll take for their work to be done. Aaron just got back from his interview. He got offered a job but the pay isn’t what he wanted. He has another interview tomorrow with a ‘big firm’, whatever that means.

“Growing up isn’t nice Grace. It’s bad.”

I wonder what the guys upstairs think of the mattress in the middle of the living room. They probably think we’re mad. Whatever. At least I didn’t put up any Christmas stuff yet, that would have been even more complicated for them to maneuver the stuff up the stairs. I can hear them upstairs. They’re probably complaining about the state of the rooms. Hah. I would totally be throwing some shade if I were them. I mean, have you seen my upstairs? That was a rhetorical question that has no actual rhetoric effect because you have not seen the upstairs of this house. If you did, you’d think it was a tragedy. Because it is. It’s a painful sight. I wish there was a way of making things look less ridiculous upstairs but for the time being, I don’t think there is. Unless of course, we get rid of A LOT of clothes (my dad’s) and figured out a proper closet system. Maybe we should have gotten one of those closets instead of bookshelves. Honestly, that would have made more sense.

Tiny, Max and Lulu are locked in the room downstairs. That’s our part-store room, part-room-we-convert-when-my-grandma-comes-over. I think they’ve given up on making noise to scare the intruders upstairs.

The mattress is seriously bugging me. It’s in my direct line of vision. You know what, I’ll insert a photo of the disgraceful mattress right here:

1

Now do you see why it’s laughable? Yeah, it’s just sitting there until I decide how I’m going to throw it away. It’s too big to stuff into a car and it would cost money to move it out of the house by ‘professionals’, SO I am gonna wait it out until my dad helps me figure it out. It’s just sitting there, mocking me.

The postman just popped by with a package from Book Depository. I got a book for Jessica, a belated birthday present. I couldn’t find it in Malaysia so I had to resort to purchasing it online. Thank goodness for free shipping right? It’s a book I’ve talked about here before that I absolutely adore and I think she’ll enjoy reading. I like getting people gifts. I like to think that I get stuff that’s considered ‘thoughtful’ or something like that. I try not to get ‘generic’ stuff unless I’m really desperate. Nothing like a book that someone will likely enjoy because they can read and reread it. I am all for the rereading.

The washing machine just finished the final round of laundry. Should I hang it now? Or maybe I should do that later? Now? Later?

Later.

Aaron’s looking for jobs with the downstairs desktop computer. I see a few dust bunnies floating on the floor. A few is an understatement actually; A lie. There are a LOT of dust bunnies. Lulu sheds a lot because her coat is really thick and she brushes herself on every rug while attacking it. The fur is everywhere. I promise you, you can vacuum the whole house very thoroughly and STILL end up with a pile of fur at the end of the day.

The guy in charge just asked me to sign an acknowledgement of the delivery and fixing of the shelves. I could totally hear the judgement in his voice when I had no idea what today’s date was. Seriously, dude, I’m sick and on holiday, take a chill pill. I’ll know the dates next time. I swear, it’s just the guy in charge that’s a bit of a prick. The other guys seem kinda quiet. Maybe that’s the reason he’s in charge.

They’re about to leave so I’m going to stop this post right here (they’ll probably see me typing a think “look at Miss Pretentious, typing away at her laptop like she’s the boss”). Two more posts coming up later today to make up for the past 2 days, so look forward to those.

 

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