What gets my goat...

If there is one thing that really gets this Norwegian all fired up and wanting to pull every last hair out of my head it is incompetent people. Ooooo dogs...it's right up there with people eating with their mouth open or feeling the need to shove their faces with a huge handful of popcorn at the movie theater like it is the last ounce of food they will ever eat. Yeah...I'll have to do a post on that one later...

Monday morning was supposed to be the day that the replacement part for my computer was to come in. Actually, it should have been here on Friday because we paid for two day shipping and...well...now seeing how this particular company works, it shouldn't surprise me that it didn't arrive on time. So the part got in when I was at a lunch meeting and Marcus was going to take apart my computer when I got home to install it. Seriously ladies, if you're single and looking for a husband, look for one who knows what they are doing with computers!! Ooo, and one that can whistle...

Anyway, my brazilliant husband gets everything situated, his very tiny screwdrivers to open Dorothy (my computer) up and perform major surgery. We are talking heart transplant type of surgery for a computer. Yeah, totally nerve wracking.

So he gets all 87 tiny, itty bitty screws out, the speakers, the mother board, the whoo hahs, ya yas, and do dads out. Very meticulous and delicate work...makes my head hurt even thinking about it.

He gets to the source of our problem and takes the piece out. Success! Or so we thought. Marcus gets the replacement piece, takes a look at it and something isn't right. It's the wrong $%@# part.

When Marcus gets mad, it's like the room gets 15 degrees warmer and he goes from being a lovely caramel colored Brazilian to a beet red, horns coming out of his head, angry bull like man. Granted, this is a very, very rare occurrence, but when it does happen I suggest you just run away.

So we have a very upset husband who is now on the phone with the company he ordered the part from. Some sales yahoo gets on the phone and tries to tell Marcus that they didn't send the wrong part. Lesson #1: Don't tell an angry Brazilian that he is wrong when he's looking at the order form and the order number does not match the number on the replacement part. After talking the yahoo sales guy through this the sales guy goes, "Oh yeah, that's the wrong part." YA THINK?!?

So after talking to the owner of the company (yeah, Marcus isn't afraid of confronting people like this, where I tend to hide and run away from said confrontation) and they finally agreed to give us a refund and pay for the shipping. So my computer still isn't fixed and the new replacement part won't be here until Friday.

Until then, Dorothy's guts are still out on our dining room table, and her 87 screws are nicely lined up in front of her. Heaven help us if this replacement part doesn't work...eeekkk!!!