Can I go to work yet?

I'm in Atlanta now, and there are construction workers banging on the other side of my apartment because the house I'm living in is OLD and FALLING APART. My yuppie landlords' eyes were apparently too blocked by dollar signs to see this, and decided to start renting it out to whatever poor sap wasn't savvy enough to question the integrity of the structure. Oops.

I don't get to start work until the 3rd of October, and I really can't wait. I need structure in my life. Otherwise I just sit around and watch horrible things like "A Baby Story" on TLC. Something about seeing overweight southern women huffing and puffing with their skinny weird husbands lurking around the stirrups always seems to direct my day in the miserable direction. Also, once I start working I will not be able to go shopping. Constantly. I have to go again today, in fact. Why? Because no matter how hard I try, I can't get the things I need in one trip. For instance, I need Q-tips. I also need wine, rather desperately. I'm pretty sure here and now are the place and time for me to become a bonafide alcoholic. It's hot, the women stay home to "handle the investments," and they just built an IKEA nearby.

Ikea is just about the most depressing place I've been in my entire life [aside from Atlanta]. It's full of screaming babies, crazy people, and STUFF EVERYWHERE. You can only meander in one direction because the aisle is too narrow and crowded to oppose the flow of shoppers, and the floor plan is nonsensical in terms of organization. I was told they make it confusing so that you'll get lost and buy more things, but I think they've made a terrible mistake. Ikea's structured chaos didn't make me want to buy more things, it made me want to:

a) Cry [which I actually did do, once I found myself in the WAREHOUSE section]
b) Throw up
c) Fall to the ground and assume the fetal position
d) Set all my money on fire and never buy anything AGAIN
e) Move to the woods and shun society

So while Ikea did ellicit a strong and multifaceted emotional/physiological response, it failed to make me want to buy more things. In fact, I desperately wanted to stop buying things so that I could claw my way OUT. Additionally, I was filled with a strong sense of guilt for NEEDING things. I felt like I really didn't NEED a chair to sit in or a place to set my towels in the bathroom, simply because I was nose to nose with one of the most disgusting displays of consumerism one could imagine.

I felt much better after a little cry in the warehouse where they force you to find the items you want, drag them out, and assemble them in your home. Putting the items together wasn't so bad, but I was drunk at the time.

With that, I have to go buy wine.

Oh, and Q-tips too.