Okay, here’s how it happened. We bought an old cane sofa on e-Bay to put on the deck. But it needed cushions. Where to buy lots of big squishy cushions without breaking the bank? Ikea, of course. So Pete and I made the trek to the new and massive outlet at Springvale on Sunday. Mission: cushion purchase. It was too hot to do anything productive anyway.

So there we were, a part of a huge crowd trundling through the endless displays of ‘Ektorps’ and ‘Rationales’ and ‘Faktums’. And it was there I fully realised that I had to drop any pretence of individuality. I am just a generic consumer, targeted by the massive monolith that is Ikea and damn it, they know how to get me too. Oh God, I’m not unique at all. I’m just one of the herd. A sheep.

How many existential crises has Ikea triggered, I wonder?

So I got my cushions. And some coathangers. And a string of lights. Damn you, Ikea, you’ve crushed my soul. Also, baaaa.

Postscript: WordPress has put in my recommended links for this post both ‘cushions’ and ‘existential crisis’. You know, I bet those two are paired more often than you would think.