Well, this week I've come to the rather unsettling conclusion that my house is also psychic. Thursday, while my mind was on of its many wanderings, it wandered towards the realization that come Thanksgiving, we will have outlasted the previous six tenants combined. I started thinking about how I would blog about this fact. I would recap some of the exploits of my house, talk about how I had conceded the backyard in an attempt to reach some sort of truce. Marvel at the fact that although the refrigerator gave up the ghost, the washer and dryer are still miraculously functioning.
Heck, I was even thinking about scraping and painting the exterior as a reward for Good House Behavior. I was feeling downright giddy and victorious.
Alas, I thought too soon. Even though I did not jinx myself by being foolish enough to actually make this post, the house has seen to it that I am firmly put in my place.
Yesterday morning, I woke up thinking the house felt a bit stuffy. I checked the thermostat, and the temperature was 79. But the thermostat was set on 75. We switched everything off, waited a few hours in case the coils were iced over, then turned the air back on. And the compressor did not join in the fun, but stubbornly refused to kick on, like that one guy in the gang who steadfastly refuses to agree to the movie everyone else is dying to see, and ends up ruining the evening for everyone, because the discussion turns into a big fight, and one couple goes home in a snit, and everyone who doesn't go home is grumpy, and you end up at a restaurant no one really likes and the waiter gets all your orders wrong and then when it comes time to split the tab no one puts in enough money and someone - meaning you - gets stuck paying in an extra twenty bucks, because you're too nice to stiff the waiter even though he got your order wrong, because he's probably just some poor kid trying to work his way through school and only screwed up your order because he was up late studying for that organic chem final, since if he fails it he'll never get into medical school and won't ever become a doctor, and so won't qualify for that research grant that helps fund the study that finds a cure for cancer, and who wants that on their shoulders?
Um, where was I? Oh, yeah - no air conditioning.
Since it's a holiday weekend, we got to pay double to have the air conditioning guy come out and tell us he can't fix it. But hey, the heat index is only 103, so who's counting? And a cool front is moving through tonight so that tomorrow it will be a measly 89 degrees outside - practically sweater weather.
But the very best part of all? Our funky house insurance will send someone out next week to look at it for only fifty bucks. And then, if the way the microwave went is any indication, they will attempt to fix it, find a similar 30-year-old model in a junk shop to pirate parts off of, install said parts, then when they don't work send the pirate parts off to a lab for testing/refurbishing, then re-install said tested/refurbished parts, only to give us money to replace the unfixable 30-year-old compressor after only six weeks have passed.
*cries* (while sweating)