Not once but TWICE today. I’m sitting on my sofa with a rather large glass of red wine (which incidentally got me into this mess in the first place) wondering what the hell happened to my Sunday. Let me start from the beginning. This time last year, we were in the throes of packing up our lives to move over to Australia. Having read that Australian beds tend to be larger than those of the UK, Jordan and I set about measuring each component of our beloved bed. (In hindsight, carrying out heavy duty measuring after a trip to the pub is probably never a good idea. You should write that down somewhere if you are planning a big move. You can thank me later). We figured that we should just about make it and so waved goodbye to comfortable sleep (and £500+) when we shipped it over last year July. We have since slept on airbeds, fold out couches and the floor. So it was with great excitement that we unpacked our shipping when it arrived after New Years… the joy was short-lived as the last screw was put into place and we realised that our new snazzy Aussie mattress was about 3cm too big for the frame. Despair and sailor swearing ensued. And since we haven’t had a free weekend since the beginning of the year, Jordan has been sleeping on the sloping bit (by morning, he has rolled down the mountain into the middle and I’ve been violently wrenched from my sleep with the realisation that something rather large and heavy is cutting off the blood supply to my arm).
So today we took back our lives by heading to Ikea early to pick up a new bed. We broke the first cardinal Ikea rule by doing this on an empty stomach. Not to mention the entire Sydney population of cranky and mis-behaved toddlers was in the bedroom section at 10am this morning. Tempers were frayed, bad decisions were made and as a result, we ended up having to go back there later this afternoon. I need peace and quiet. I’d sell my soul to spend the weekend at Christian Liaigre’s St Barts pad.
Images via Elle Decor