Reality bites

I am having a new kitchen fitted. In my head this meant:

1) Buy a shiny kitchen.
2) Have shiny kitchen delivered.
3) Have takeaways for a couple of days whilst kitchen was slightly inaccessible.

In reality this means I got to:

1) Buy a shiny kitchen
2) Have ridiculous arguments with the delivery company as to why they didn't deliver it when they said they would. And then be patronised by someone called Trisha. People called Trisha shouldn't be allowed to patronise anyone.
3) Spend 400 hours putting everything from my kitchen into my living room.
4) Enjoy the fact that my entire flat is covered with kitchen dust and I've had to cancel my cleaner because the place looks like a warzone.
5) Relish the fact that my boiler is alternately fucked and/or the gas is switched off, meaning I get to start my day with a bracing cold shower.
6) Begin to worry that I might have chosen tiles / worksurfaces that don't actually match. We did quite a lot of Pythagoras at school, but I don't remember the module where they taught us what sort of taps go with a marble-effect worktop.

And I didn't even get a takeaway out of it. Damn microwave meals. Damn you to hell.