I'm not complaining.

The one thing I know about Sam is that if something is at all technical, he will research it for-freaking-ever to make the very smartest choice.

And I'm not complaining about that.

This means if I ask for some sort of little speaker-doolies for my iPod so I can listen without headphones, and he asks, "What kind do you want?" I can say, "I don't know, that's your department," and end up with nice ones, not the cheap ones I would have bought myself. It means when we needed a new washer/dryer, I ended up with what were at the time the very best front loaders Maytag had to offer.

This is what I call delegating. I let him choose anything that I want to be top-of-the-line, because when he chooses, it will be.

So when I said, "I would really-really-really love to have a laser printer that prints only black ink because they are fast and crisp and superior and I never need color for anything," I knew I could sit back and leave the rest to him.

And I'm not complaining.

But.

This printer. It's HUGE. It weighs 45 freaking pounds. (I'm not sure I should have lifted it out of the box and carried it into my office, actually.)

And on my desk? It's .... REALLY HUGE.

I mean, on paper, 18" high and 17" wide and 15" deep may not seem all that big.

BUT IT IS.

Not that I'm complaining.

But, you see? It doesn't fit where the other printer fit. And I've spent the day in my office ("OFFICE!" squealed in Maynard G. Krebs falsetto) throwing stuff out, moving stuff around, clearing a path to the desk, clearing a space ON the desk....

Which means I've now got stacks of stuff in the hall, in the living room, waiting to be "handled" in some efficient way which does not include getting moved back onto my office floor or desk.... (Oy!)

And a mountain of clean clothes on the sofa waiting to be folded and dealt with, which I haven't been doing because I've spent the day moving crap around in and out of my office ("Office!").

And now that Sam is finally in there installing the printer and preparing it to take orders from my laptop without benefit of cables, I'm staring at stacks of stuff and piles of clothes and kind of wanting to curl up in a ball.

But I'm not complaining.

Because he loves me and he wants me to have something that works really well and I did say I wanted a fast printer and this one is fast, and did I say he loves me and bought this for me because he wants me to have something that works really well?

And I'm not complaining.

But next time he asks, "What kind do you want?" I'm going to damn sure have an answer and it will not be something that requires me to spend one day tearing my office apart and (apparently) another day putting it back together just to squeeze the "new something" in.

And the first person who points out that I need to just clean up my damn office is going to die.