I got up to a slightly chilly house this morning, went out to the thermostat to turn up the heat, and found a red light blinking at me. Unless you’re at a busy intersection, red lights are generally no good…particularly when they’re blinking above a word that bears a suspicious and uncanny resemblance to “malfunction.” I bundled up in the big, fluffy robe that makes me feel like a teddy bear whenever I wear it, got my shift covered for work, and called in to the Home Warranty company. Not once, in the 10 minute duration of that phone call, did I actually get to speak to a human. Doing so might have made the call last two and a half minutes instead, and wouldn’t THAT have been handy?

So the android on the other end gave me the phone number of a company to call to set up an appointment to have things checked out, and of course they can’t answer the phone because heaters all over Antarctica  Arkansas (Antarckansas?) are blowing up because it’s the coldest winter in twenty years. OF COURSE. The electricity is fine so between our space heaters and fireplace we are not going to freeze. However. Because of the blinking red light I turned off the thermostat, which means the heater should not be running, right? But the heater is running. The outside unit is not running, but the heater is. Demonic posession? Ought I have called a Catholic priest instead of a heating technician? 

Y’all? He hasn’t even been gone three whole days.

Update: The phone number that the warranty company’s automated system gave me this morning was for a Technician in NORTH CAROLINA. I did call them back and now there’s a local technician coming tomorrow. We’ve got space heaters and the fireplace so we’re not going to freeze or anything, but…really?