It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a married man in possession of a house will one day find himself in a shouting match with his spouse about something trivial like throw pillows. All of this will likely happen at IKEA. If that man has refused to go to IKEA, because he has justly concluded that the furniture retailer is actually Dante’s tenth circle of hell, then the fight will take place at home, after his spouse has concluded that hellish shopping visit, which for some reason she decided to undertake by herself on a Saturday.
Why did she do this? She works at home. She literally could have gone any other day of the week. The answer is unclear even to her. Moths are drawn to the flame, only to erupt in a tiny burst of fire when they reach their destination. My version of self-immolation is a Swedish furniture