Bits and Bobs from Ikea

An interesting bit of juxtaposition today. 

In the morning, I went to Ikea, and in the evening I watched Fight Club, in which the Narrator laments his Ikea furniture for turning him into a consumer. 

I felt like a tourist watching this particular brand of nineties disillusionment. 

His Billy bookcase wasn’t the thing making him miserable.

It’s dangerous to ascribe too much worth to an object.

And it’s equally as foolish to ascribe too much responsibility to an object, too. 

I don’t expect the world from the bits and bobs I’ve bought from Ikea. Just a little bit of organization, and maybe a modicum of domestic peace.