red tag of death...!
so shayne was sitting at home tonight and she noticed that the furnace was singing. quietly. seeping out through the vents. it was like a slow dirge. a funeral dirge. josh (aka "mustache guy", but now sans-mustache) noticed that it smelled like an elementary school. it smelled like crayola crayons, or a cheaper generic maybe, like a Rose crayon maybe, melting on a heater on a muggy day.
i came home and confirmed the funny smell. checked the cats. checked the oven. listened to the serenade of the dying furnace.
bravely i went down to the basement to check on the condition, where i tripped over a dead starling. impressively, i didn't shriek. most of you prolly know that i am terrified of the basement at night. killers with rusty axes lure down there. they pull the fuses to lure me down there. i refuse! i send Shayne down instead. she's my canary in a coal for mile for axe murders.
but i digress.
the upshot is that Josh took care of the dead bird, while i called the Gas Company. they warned me that it sounded dangerous, although still safe to stay in the house so long as we didn't turn on any appliances or lights. i peed by flashlight since we didn't want to brave flipping on the light. we crouched in fear that somebody would ring the doorbell. we didn't touch the cats for terror of static electricity.
the road filled up with fire trucks soon after i called. alas, it was not for us. i was oddly disappointed.
the gas company finally came out, investigated, and slapped on a Red Tag of Death. they cut the gas and disconnected my furnace.
on the coldest night of the year.
this is how old people die. Joe For Oil warns me on tv all the time. check on the old folks!
and tonight it's my turn. please, friends of the casa call to check in. as i type the temperature is plummeting. my fingers are getting cold, but still i soldier on... growing weaker... i hear it's like falling asleep.... oh so sleepy....
(okay, actually we have a space heater running and the gas company should be out tonight at some time after midnight to give me a new motor).
you can't make up this kind of drama, kids.