On Tuesday the condenser pump on our furnace died.
Which involved a lot of loud, scary noises.
In spring of 2005 we replaced our 100 year old furnace with a very expensive gas model.
It was a huge, dirty, mess, which I cleaned up after with my six week old in a sling.
Mop, nurse, sweep, nurse, scrub, vacuum, nurse the baby, make the guy raise the duct work up so I can walk underneath... nurse the baby.
The model we took out had originally burned wood or shavings, then was rigged up by some clever person to burn heating oil.
I was very anti-gas, as I am from a family of woodcutting people that shun the feeble and capricious nature of gas heat.
If I had a nickel for every time I heard "gas heat just isn't as warm as wood heat", why I could by a new wood stove!
Sure it comes on as soon as you flip the switch, but it is just not a heavy warm heat, and it goes away as fast as it comes on.
I am pro quilt, pro wood stove, pro oil and anti gas.
Mark is all about gas heat and he won out in the end.
To me six years may as well be six minutes.
So you can imagine how annoyed I was when I phoned the people that put the gas furnace in.
The fellow on the service line was a total ass.
Hands down the most assholeish of assholes that I have had to deal with in ages.
He seemed to think that six years is a perfectly fine amount of time for a $8000 machine to run.
In the end he said
"Maybe you should go on the internet and order the part YOURSELF, then install it.
You seem like the type of person that is into saving money."
No, I HATE saving money.
I LOVE IT when stuff breaks!
In the end I could not abide paying Sunset fuel another penny and instead got on the phone (not the internet, you smug SOB!) and asked my friend Brian to fix it, which he did for $50 and the price of the part.
Brian is handy and he hates "Ikea culture" as much as I do.