Some time ago, I was working peacefully on my computer, minding my own business, when my hard drive decided that it had functioned long enough. It decided to go poof (a standard IT guy phrase). It was rendered non compos mentis (which is Swedish for it belongs in the compost pile). Well, I immediately set about to order an new replacement drive. Then I sat and waited. I waited and waited. I waited some more. Then you can guess what happened next. Yes, more waiting. During this long period the last few patience cells that I had got lonely and also went poof (a standard biologist guy phrase).
With nothing else to do, I was finally forced to go to a meeting. When I came back and entered my office, there sat a hard-drive-sized box on my desk. I was certain of what was inside because the box had a glowing aura about it and I heard a choir singing a medley of praises. I dove into the box and pulled out its innards only to find ... (wait for it) ... a book. A book that I didn't ask for and didn't need. It would not even fit into the hard drive slot of my computer. The old bait and switch. It's comical when it happens to someone else, but agonizing when it happens to you. Argh.
