Movement and Letters to Inanimate Objects 2/8

This is in the Grand Floridian. Awesome!

Listening to Comfortable by John Mayer
Thinking about what to make for dinner (since that's my responsibility now that I've moved out)
    For those of you who skimmed over the little "listening to/thinking about" section - shame on you! - I've moved out! I'm living in a house forty-five minutes away from campus with three friends, and it's frickin awesome. Just sayin'. My room is small, and currently dominated by boxes and pieces of my bed.
    Why is my bed in pieces you ask? Because our local Ikea is moronic. They left out the majority of the pieces for my bed in the packages we got. For example: the very first piece we needed to make my bed? Long board with a crescent type cut out in the middle of one side? Missing. The first piece. Really? Also, the head and footboard. (I do have a separate headboard with storage in it that we bought and built separately; these are the back and front pieces of the platform.) How do you forget to put those in? We did finally get all the pieces, but my dad can't come help build it until Thursday - that is, tomorrow - so tonight is my last night sleeping on a mattress on the floor, and I couldn't be happier.
    Sidenote: my bed is the kind with drawers in it, because I don't have room for a dresser and bed and desk and bookshelf in my room. So we combined two. Well, I currently don't have a place for all my clothes, so I've been living out of boxes since Saturday. I feel like a hobo. I hobo who no longer lives with her parents, but a hobo nonetheless.
    Here are some letters!

Dear Ikea,

Get your crap together. Your level of disorganization is astounding. I was so angry upon finding yet another piece missing from my bed that I wanted to go to your store and jump on every neatly made bed you had on display. I wanted to put fingerprints on all the stainless steel stuff, and leave my food on the table in your little cafeteria. And leave my chair out for someone to trip on. And my cart in the middle of the parking deck. 

Dear Bertolli frozen dinner,

I really wish I had known I needed a pot to cook you in and that you weren't steam-in-the-bag. I was so dismayed upon finding out I couldn't have garlic shrimp and pasta for dinner on Monday. But those weren't tears. Really.

Dear e.l.f. mineral make-up,

You are the greatest make-up I have ever used in my life. I just got your mineral eyeshadow yesterday, and I am never going back. This love affair isn't going anywhere, so get used to it. It's gonna be a good forever. :)

Sincerely, 
Sarah Jane