This story is two years old now, but has been called to mind by events at work and home in the past week. I wrote it three months after I purchased my condo.
Thursday evening I walked in the door at six and hollered for Steven because the condo smelled like gas. He said he had spilled the gas can when he mowed his dad's yard. We got the stinky clothes into the washer, then he says, "By the way, the carpet upstairs by the furnace closet is a bit wet." I go up there, and can't figure out why it's wet, but it's not a major deal. I come back downstairs and finish putting away groceries, then head to my bathroom. In the hall by my closet, there are six pans catching water pouring out one of the recessed lights. Steven says, "Oh, I thought you knew about that. They were there when I woke up." I figure out that the air space underneath the furnace is soaking wet and dripping downstairs, so we set the a/c for 85 degrees, and start running fans to dry out everything that's wet. The home warranty people claim that I don't exist, so I work my way up through their supervisors until one finally admits that I do exist. The repairman can't come over until Monday noon. Mike comes home from work for his supper break and tells me he didn't call me about the water mess because he didn't know when I would be between classes. That's what I get for teaching the guys not to call me unless there's blood on the carpet.
Told the guys to go to their dad's Friday, but they chose to lay around in wife-beater undershirts watching DVDs and drinking gatorade. It was only 93 degrees inside, after all. Marlon Brando would be proud. Guess it will be a cold day in hell when they hang at their dad's. I spent Friday evening figuring out how to get to the a/c drain pipe, opening it, snaking out the drain with sculpture wire, and pouring gobs of clorox down the drain. The gunk then comes out in my downstairs bathtub, but we are able to run the a/c, and get it down to 83 in here. At 3:28 a.m. the outdoor compressor/condenser(?) starts making incredible shrieking noises, so I turn off the a/c and set fans all over the house. Shrieking noises tend to upset my next door neighbor. She's the German masseuse, weight-lifter, Wagnerian opera fanatic, anti-rabies shot dachsund owner, former cop with anger-management issues who freaked out over my offensive windchimes.
For fun today I've been dealing mostly with cleaning the outdoor unit to make it happy enough to get the inside temp down near eighty. Have to turn it off every time the shrieking starts. Also have to deal with the clothes in my closet where the rusty water mess also leaked.
Jeff got a ride back from Austin, so at least I didn't have to go move him out of the dorm today. As soon as he arrived he had to rush over to his dad's for the 1-yr. old's birthday party. The boys got her a talking Elmo ball. It is really annoying, and should drive my ex right up the wall. So the weekend hasn't been a total loss.
"...and I'll be happy to see those nice young men in their clean white coats, and they're coming to take me away..."
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