Buying a Kitchen
It has been such a busy week! So much planning and setting up of appointments and trying not to kill the Husband everytime he says anything. What's a girl to do? This girl drinks.
There is a lot in the next few weeks that we have to complete. We still have to meet up with the district rep. to help find us a specialty kindergarten. Start ergo therapy. We have to get the Kid's ears checked (we went on Friday and were informed it would be at least 90 minutes until we would get to see the doctor and I laughed and I laughed and had visions of the Kid holding the waiting room hostage so we left). But there is another place up my sleeve so hopefully in the next week we can get an appointment. Then the Husband and I have to register ourselves in our new district. It is an Austrian rule that when you move to a new place, you have to get a "Meldezettel". Since we are now moving to the 4th, I expect my Meldezettel to be covered in glitter and unicorns. We also have to register with the electric company, order a wall to be built, have windows replaced, have a lighting guy come by and hang up the chandeliers I ordered and of course someone to hang paintings and mirrors (that last part is not as urgent).
So, one of our biggest tasks to complete was getting a kitchen. I knew that this would be a nightmare but I knew we had to get it done. Saturday morning, the Nanny came by to watch the Kid (because Saturday Ikea + the Kid + expensive purchase = homicide. We opted for the formula: Saturday Ikea - the Kid + expensive purchase = aggravated assault.)
We arrived at Ikea just after 10 a.m. and I was a woman possessed, I showed no mercy and plowed through families contemplating computer desks and went straight to the first person in blue and yellow in the kitchen section.
"Hi. We'd like to purchase a kitchen!" I said loudly, while the Husband was bent at the waist, trying to catch his breath.
"Um, a whole kitchen?" she asked.
"A whole kitchen. The STAT one please. Where can we pay?"
I think she was a little confused. She sent us over to a computer and told us to use the kitchen planning tool and I was not impressed. How hard can it be to order a kitchen? This is Ikea. Things are supposed to be easy.
The Husband and I clicked around and let me tell you that there is nothing more annoying than passing over the control of the mouse to someone else who also is unable to use the computer programme with ease. Oh wait, there is something more annoying than that - ordering a kitchen with someone who can't even boil water. We clicked and snapped at each other and I kept saying "Get the lady! Get the lady!" and being a man, he ignored me. Then he suggested we come back next week and then order the kitchen. I believe I said, and I quote, "I will go Joe Pesci on your ass if we leave without a kitchen today." We were just about to sign divorce papers when another Ikea lady came over. I think the original woman we talked to sent the new woman over with the memo "They are idiots."
This new woman was a life saver. I swear to God that within 45 minutes she had put together an awesome kitchen, suggested amazing ideas and made me want to take her home with me. And she inadvertently stopped me from killing the Husband multiple times. At one point the Husband asked about cabinets that "hang" above the ground so that it is easier to clean the floors.
"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.
"It makes sense that there is nothing underneath. We can clean under the cabinets." he answered.
"What "we" white man?" I responded and then, when I was about to jab a pencil into his hand, the angel from Ikea stepped in and told the Husband that the panels underneath were removable and if he so ever was inclined to do so, "we" could clean underneath the cabinets. ANGEL FROM IKEA!
Once the kitchen was ordered, I was also able to order a bed and sofa and some lights right from the terminal and when the Husband kvetched about one of the purchases, the Ikea angel pointed out it was women's day and maybe this could be his present to me. I wanted to hold her and whisper "You, you're very good." Two and a half hours after first arriving, we had our print out of our new kitchen and our bill. I wanted to weep with joy.
We went to the transport area to pay and of course a couple cut in front of us which led to me obnoxiously huffing and puffing and "accidentally" bumping into them. Passive aggression foreva! Finally we got to the counter and we got ready to pay our bill. The Husband's bank card didn't work due to a daily limit. My credit card didn't work, due to a daily limit. My bank card didn't work due to a daily limit. Three cards down and I was about to hyperventilate. Finally the Husband used his credit card and SUCCESS!!!! I die.
We rode back in silence - like he had seen hell and were suffering post tramautic stress. Later in the evening, as we sat on the sofa, the Husband turned to me and said "That wasn't so bad. I think the kitchen will be great!" Siiiiigh. And yes, I wrote an e-mail to customer service thanking the angel who helped us. May she be showered with better customers in the future.
There is a lot in the next few weeks that we have to complete. We still have to meet up with the district rep. to help find us a specialty kindergarten. Start ergo therapy. We have to get the Kid's ears checked (we went on Friday and were informed it would be at least 90 minutes until we would get to see the doctor and I laughed and I laughed and had visions of the Kid holding the waiting room hostage so we left). But there is another place up my sleeve so hopefully in the next week we can get an appointment. Then the Husband and I have to register ourselves in our new district. It is an Austrian rule that when you move to a new place, you have to get a "Meldezettel". Since we are now moving to the 4th, I expect my Meldezettel to be covered in glitter and unicorns. We also have to register with the electric company, order a wall to be built, have windows replaced, have a lighting guy come by and hang up the chandeliers I ordered and of course someone to hang paintings and mirrors (that last part is not as urgent).
So, one of our biggest tasks to complete was getting a kitchen. I knew that this would be a nightmare but I knew we had to get it done. Saturday morning, the Nanny came by to watch the Kid (because Saturday Ikea + the Kid + expensive purchase = homicide. We opted for the formula: Saturday Ikea - the Kid + expensive purchase = aggravated assault.)
We arrived at Ikea just after 10 a.m. and I was a woman possessed, I showed no mercy and plowed through families contemplating computer desks and went straight to the first person in blue and yellow in the kitchen section.
"Hi. We'd like to purchase a kitchen!" I said loudly, while the Husband was bent at the waist, trying to catch his breath.
"Um, a whole kitchen?" she asked.
"A whole kitchen. The STAT one please. Where can we pay?"
I think she was a little confused. She sent us over to a computer and told us to use the kitchen planning tool and I was not impressed. How hard can it be to order a kitchen? This is Ikea. Things are supposed to be easy.
The Husband and I clicked around and let me tell you that there is nothing more annoying than passing over the control of the mouse to someone else who also is unable to use the computer programme with ease. Oh wait, there is something more annoying than that - ordering a kitchen with someone who can't even boil water. We clicked and snapped at each other and I kept saying "Get the lady! Get the lady!" and being a man, he ignored me. Then he suggested we come back next week and then order the kitchen. I believe I said, and I quote, "I will go Joe Pesci on your ass if we leave without a kitchen today." We were just about to sign divorce papers when another Ikea lady came over. I think the original woman we talked to sent the new woman over with the memo "They are idiots."
This new woman was a life saver. I swear to God that within 45 minutes she had put together an awesome kitchen, suggested amazing ideas and made me want to take her home with me. And she inadvertently stopped me from killing the Husband multiple times. At one point the Husband asked about cabinets that "hang" above the ground so that it is easier to clean the floors.
"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.
"It makes sense that there is nothing underneath. We can clean under the cabinets." he answered.
"What "we" white man?" I responded and then, when I was about to jab a pencil into his hand, the angel from Ikea stepped in and told the Husband that the panels underneath were removable and if he so ever was inclined to do so, "we" could clean underneath the cabinets. ANGEL FROM IKEA!
Once the kitchen was ordered, I was also able to order a bed and sofa and some lights right from the terminal and when the Husband kvetched about one of the purchases, the Ikea angel pointed out it was women's day and maybe this could be his present to me. I wanted to hold her and whisper "You, you're very good." Two and a half hours after first arriving, we had our print out of our new kitchen and our bill. I wanted to weep with joy.
We went to the transport area to pay and of course a couple cut in front of us which led to me obnoxiously huffing and puffing and "accidentally" bumping into them. Passive aggression foreva! Finally we got to the counter and we got ready to pay our bill. The Husband's bank card didn't work due to a daily limit. My credit card didn't work, due to a daily limit. My bank card didn't work due to a daily limit. Three cards down and I was about to hyperventilate. Finally the Husband used his credit card and SUCCESS!!!! I die.
We rode back in silence - like he had seen hell and were suffering post tramautic stress. Later in the evening, as we sat on the sofa, the Husband turned to me and said "That wasn't so bad. I think the kitchen will be great!" Siiiiigh. And yes, I wrote an e-mail to customer service thanking the angel who helped us. May she be showered with better customers in the future.
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| Where's my stabbing pencil? |
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