When a national holiday is big enough that I get a day off, I do my best not to waste it.

Naturally, I went to IKEA, with about 80 percent of the rest of the immediate world who had the day off, too.

Luckily, I found a parking spot easily, and made my way into the store and over to the elevator.

As I made my way along the winding path of the second-floor showroom, the thing that struck me as most interesting was that there were plenty of books on the shelves. In fact, there were several copies of the same book on any given shelf -- as there were several copies of the same shirt in any given closet -- and they were all in Swedish. The familiar authors were Michael Frayn (Noises Off), James McBride (The Color of Water), Anita Shreve (The Pilot's Wife) and Irvine Welsh (Trainspotting). I couldn't tell what books were on the shelves -- I don't speak Swedish -- but I felt good about knowing who the authors were.

When I finished with the upper level -- I knew I was done because I ended up at the cafe -- I took the elevator back down, and ended up in the marketplace, where there are all sorts of smaller items for the home. Once you're through there, you end up in the warehouse, where there are rows of shelves of flat boxes of unassembled furniture. I took a pass on those, and headed straight for the food market. There wasn't much there, but it was next to a snack bar. Feeling a bit hungry -- it was time for my afternoon snack, which I forgot to bring with me -- I headed for the exit, and back to my car.

It took less than two hours, and didn't cost me anything but time and little bit of gas. Maybe next time I go to IKEA -- I think I'm good until 2009 -- I will actually buy something.