Tuesday, 22 April 2008


Blood is boiling. Rage overcomes me. My throat goes dry, my muscles tense and a throb begins in my right temple. What has driven me to such distraction? What has made me go loopy and want to scream until I can no longer hear?

Ikea. Dear god it enrages me beyond any other place on earth. I hate the shoddy furniture that can't withstand a good burp, the cheap touch of the fibres and the tacky neon colours that assault my senses from the moment I walk inside. But today - I was forced to visit. No other place on earth it appears, sells blinds (wooden slats) that are 100cm across. B&Q, Homebase etc - are all 120cm. Why is this? So my kind builder - who came round to tell me that my washing machine is in fact broken and we need a new one - drove me there and I scampered quickly through, only stopping at the candle and light section as it is the singular part that I can stomach. I grabbed a few cheap overly sweet vanilla scented tea lights, a few wine glasses and 2 lamps. A furry sheepskin rug for sproglet to curl up in (as he loves one at his godmother's). Got said blind and then paid oh... a mere £25 to get home again.

Once home I discover one wine glass is broken and one lamp. It only cost £8 - but that isn't the point!!!! The point is I had to trek to that godforsaken place and survive the laborious walk round it - and then pay for crap cab home - only to discover the shoddy goods are BROKEN shoddy goods. Yes I am more bitter than a lemon. Plus my bastard mortgage company have valued my flat £50k less than it is worth - and my whole house buying is once again on a precarious knife edge. All this whilst I try and work out when to start work and order furniture and try and get tenants. I am ready to kill.

Just spoke to my good mate Donna who puts my house buying hell into perspective. The poor woman has been due to move since January and some numpty at the bottom of her chain (buying from the people who are buying her place) has dilly dallied needing a Muslim mortgage (as Muslims cannot borrow money) which is fine - but his conveyancer makes Ikea look unshoddy. Today it all fell through - her house by the way is packed and ready to go. Her dream home awaits. But her vendor put it back on the market and has had a better offer - so it looks like she has lost her dream home. To say she is devastated is an understatement. I try to tell her that it means an even better home awaits her. That in this market - she can get a great deal. But they are empty words - because after all she has been through she deserves that house. Not for her whole chain to disintegrate before her eyes - and not on account of what she has or hasn't done - but because of other weak parts of the chain.

My tip - stay put. If you can. This market is a mare for all but savvy business men who can spot a bargain, smell desperation and move in for the kill, their fins circling as the desperate seller goes under. Whilst the rich bonus boys in the city who caused this catastrophe count their pennies and recline to watch their 42" TVs the rest of us mere mortals pay the price. I'm off to suck on another lemon.

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