The instruction manual does not cover this. You knew when you bought the IKEA shelf that it would cost you some minor physical labor, but hey, the hard part was over, right? You figured nothing could be worse than being in the actual colossal cash register line that is an IKEA store. You survived walking through the maze of furniture/eye candy before you reached the register: the lamps/M&Ms, the tables/Altoids, the couches/US Weekly magazines. It may be a Swedish store, but it feels so typically American. And you finally got home with just that one shelf you needed, ready to start building now that the mental anguish was over. But it wasn't over, was it? I find in times like these that it's important to have a support system, to know that others have been through what you've been through and have felt what you are feeling. As with most emotionally taxing situations, building an IKEA shelf can be best expressed by using the five stages of grief.
1. Denial
Is it denial or optimism? I'd like to think it's a little bit of both. "I can do this!" is a wonderful sentiment, and I usually like to start my shelf-building with this kind of attitude. Besides, I'd hate to lose that "glass half-full" mindset that is so necessary for DIY projects. If I do, then the shelf wins.
2. Anger
However, I would like to take this opportunity to rant about the instruction manual. Because what this manual fails to communicate in it's 35 listed languages (yes, I counted) is the soul-crushing truth that shelves don't just float in midair while you are building them. You will be crushing your foot in an effort to get a decent angle on that allen wrench because you are not The Great Houdini, who this manual was clearly created for (I do believe Harry would be quite good at constructing IKEA shelves). If IKEA is going to insist on providing its directions in the form of vague pictures, I would at least like to see a realistic sketch of a young girl looking strained under her shelf, drawn to scale.
3. Bargaining
This is my sad attempt to go back to the way things were, often filled with "what-if's" and "if only's". What if I had never bought this shelf? If only I had just gone to Target. What if I had read at least one online review before wasting my afternoon? If only I had gotten a fully furnished apartment.
4. Depression
This is perhaps the biggest hurdle. Why go on? Is there any point? I reflect on these thoughts as I lay sprawled across the floor, numb to the many wooden panels of my unbuilt shelf that are protruding into my back. I know on some level that I can't leave this shelf unfinished. And I should probably pick up that tiny plastic bag with the nails spilling out before my roommate gets home. I let out a sad sigh... I think I need a hug.
5. Acceptance
This is my IKEA shelf. This is the best I could do. Yes, I still have to fasten it to the wall. Sure, this apartment is a rental and I'm not supposed to be punching holes in it. However, I did my best. I'm proud of my work. And most importantly, I only paid $24.99 for it.
