I Survived Ikea Again

One more set of bookshelves assembled and, though I mourn the original cube shelf line, the replacement (Kallax? Parallax? something like that) is serviceable: only a slight difference in height between the two sets of shelves rectified by the strategic placement of Funko Pops and/or antique typewriters that I don’t yet own.

All books now in their new home – alphabetized again, of course –, the final ichspürgendurgen or whatever in the writing cavern of hermitage and escape and toil.

Awoke this morning possessed of the intention to regale you with a list of observations and amusements about the experience but I think I’m still in a post-assembly, allen wrench-infused stupor; ichspürgendurgen.

(Gesundheit.)