...to questionable people.Shit happens.
Hub and I got a pretty good refund on our taxes last year, and were planning to use that money to finish the kitchen project.
You remember the kitchen project, right? Hell, we started it so long ago that I can't even find the old post.
Anyway, Kitchen Remodel 2007, celebrated its second birthday LAST OCTOBER - and it still isn't finished. For various and myriad reasons.
So I finally convinced Hub to pay somebody the hell ELSE to finish this project. And he relented. And I rejoiced. I may have shed a tear or two. I made plans. I was excited.
Until Sunday. When our gas heat failed to click on.
Toothless HVAC guy shows up today and points out a massive crack in the flux capacitor or whatever the hell it is in the heating thingy that gets hot. It turns out that it is actually illegal to run a furnace with a gaping hole in it. I said, "It's just a flesh wound." Toothless guy stared. So we turned off the heat.
It also turns out that, when the heat was running? It was sucking carbon monoxide back into the house.
Well THAT explains a hell of a lot. The dreams, the groggies, the forgetfulness - everything I've attributed to either hereditary mental illness or pre-pre-pre-menopause can ACTUALLY be blamed on the furnace.
The other bad thing that happened today...and I can't decide whether it's worse... is that I have Cracklin' Rosie stuck in my head. Meanwhile, as I type, Hub is sitting beside me on the couch singing I Write the Songs to try to help me purge the ear worm.
Trying to help me. By replacing Neil Diamond with Barry Manilow. I don't know whether to kiss him or leave home.
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As for the "flesh wound", after I stopped laughing, I could only be grateful you caught that bad boy. Wow. That could be bad.
And as for the earworm? It's because you made a pact with the devil That's the only reason for such terrible suffering.
And yikes! That bit about the carbon monoxide is scary! I'm so glad you've caught that. Yikes. Did I say "yikes"? 'Cause yikes.
I'm happy to say that I don't know Cracklin' Rosie, so I am spared that earworm. But now am doomed to hear I Write the Songs. Thanks.