I bought a bed. It’s a big deal.
Let’s back track, I have never bought a piece of furniture in my life before this. My dining room set belonged to my grandmother for sixty years, the chair I watch TV (laptop) in is a hand me down from my sister and my mom bought the screens that separate my room from the living room. Everything else belongs to my room mate or came with the apartment. I slept on my childhood bed for 23 years, interspersed with college where I slept on three separate dorm beds and a mattress on the floor. For the last six months, I’ve been sleeping on another mattress on the floor, which was a gift.
This bed was not purchased lightly. I saved for this bed. I got a second job for this bed. I researched this bed.
It’s an Ikea Bruseli because I got a second job as a dog walker, not a rich person. Rich people probably just by beds willy nilly, filling their mattresses with dollar bills and diamonds. When I was a kid, I had a fantasy of having a room of nothing put mattresses which I later realized would be a padded cell. As an adult I decided to buy a bed because I was tired of collapsing on the ground like an animal every night. On a bed, I am elevated from the carpet of trash dirty clothes and food articles I drop on the floor. I survey my living room like Cleopatra surveyed the nile, a decadent three feet above the ground.
My bed arrived yesterday. Ikea delivered to my apartment. If Ikea did not deliver, I would live like an animal. The second story might as well be Killimanjaro if I have to carry anything heavier than a gallon of milk.
Oh my god, it looks so comfy. It’s like a Bed Fetus, not even fully formed yet. I had to leave the bed like this for about 5 hours while I went off and walked dogs. I didn’t get the dog walking job just to pay for the bed but after starting to walk dogs, I definitely need the bed.
When I came home, my roommate was off to work and I was famished. After a quick meal, I turned to the instructions.
Ikea is a marvelous company. They deliver, they pay their employees a living wage and they didn’t yell at me when I brought frozen yogurt into their show room.
They do not give written instructions but rather a series of wordless comics to explain how to put your furniture together. One of the first pictures is of two smiling, genderless people, one of whom is holding a hammer. Then there is a picture of a lone individual who also has a hammer but no facial features to speak of. The single person has a large X through their person to indicate that you should not attempt to put your Ikea furniture together by yourself.
There comes a point in every adult’s life when they must decide if they’re going to let an Ikea instruction booklet control them. I am not. Screw you, Ikea, I am a strong, independant woman and I don’t need anyone to put together a bed! Maybe its a little more complicated but at least I don’t have anyone going “that doesn’t go there,” and “you’re turning it the wrong way” everytime I try to express myself with this bed frame. I am an adult, Ikea. I bought a bed.
Having asserted my dominance, I got the headboard together and the side pieces attached.
Books are so useful, kids. Develop a love of reading as soon as you can. A good story will change your life for years to come.
The attachment of the foot board proved to be slightly more complex. I needed to fit it on to each side board at nearly exactly the same time, At least enough that the footboard didn’t immediately slip off. It wasn’t exactly on either. It wobbled. The Ikea instruction comics suggested that I use the allen wrench they provided. I did. Allen wrenches are liars.
I pushed the bed as close as I can and figured it was good enough. After all, my childhood bed had a loose head board and you shouldn’t go to sleep feeling completely safe. In Cave Man days, people who went to sleep feeling completely safe were eaten by tigers.
Then I was supposed to attach two long metal pieces to the side boards.Then came four smaller metal pieces which I was meant to attach to those metal pieces in diagonal patterns so I could actually have a mattress on my bed. Such decadence.
According to the instruction comics, these were meant to attach with little tiny screws, probably less than half a centimeter. They did not. I spent a good half an hour trying to get them attached. I don’t know what kind of sick came Ikea is playing but it is unamusing. My bed is now held together primarily by gravity and duct tape, If someone writes a modern day version of Sisyphus, they should probably have him try to put together ikea furniture with screws that are too small for anything.
Once these base pieces were “attached” and I put on the center bar, naught was left but to attach what appeared to be two very small rope ladders to hold my mattress. It took three tries to make them all stay on at once. These did not even have the appearance of being able to attach. They just were.
Now the moment of truth; putting a mattress on my bed. My matress, also from ikea, is a big floppy memory foam thing that I had stored against the wall while I set up my bed. I now maneuvered it through the living room so that it stood parallel to the footboard. Like Jochebed laying Moses in the bullrushes, I carefully leaned my mattress onto the bed frame.
It did not collapse!
Not collapsing is really all I want out of the bed.
If you like this and want stories of me putting together Ikea furniture, please download a free copy of my story To Move On! The story with the most downloads win! If I win, I’ll buy a couch and pay off half my student loans! So far my friends and followers have moved me from 24th place to 19th place! Thanks so much for your help!