Thanks, Dad.

Yesterday I spent two painstaking hours at Ikea agonizing over what furniture to purchase to furnish my first (very, very first) apartment on my own. A few years ago I would have bought whatever was cheapest and called it a day. But now I'm in my mid-twenties and have to take several things into consideration that I didn't when I was in college. First, I don't want my apartment to look like a college kid's; full of hand-me-downs and cheap Ikea crap. Second, there's no one giving me hand-me-downs anymore so these purchases have to last me several years. Third, I'd like my living space to look cohesive. I think I accomplished that. I left Ikea exhausted, but proud with visions of an adorable, urban studio floating in my head.

Today my new furniture arrived and the reality of making Ikea purchases sunk it; you have to assemble it all with the crazy tools and supplies they provide. I started to get nervous, what if I screwed up my new furniture and wasted my time and money on things I couldn't even use? My nervousness quickly faded when I remembered that I was fully capable of accomplishing this task. Thanks to lots of practical advice from dear old Dad over the years, I am actually pretty handy (if I do say so myself). I often pretend not to be or forget that I am until faced with a challenge. I know my way around a tool box and even have a few tools of my own that I like to keep around. Luckily, my dad also taught me to read directions first (I know, strange for a man), which is key when assembling Ikea products.

It took several hours, but I totally handled that futon, desk and kitchen table. In fact, I felt so confident that I even hung a few pictures. Afterwards I admired my handy work and attempted to take a nap on my new futon because dang was I tired. Seriously, assembling and moving all that furniture can really take it out of ya.

**My apologies for not having pictures of said furniture, but I can't find the cord for my camera. I appreciate your patience and will have pictures up soon.