Friday, February 20, 2009


NEEDED TO START IMMEDIATELY: Hard working self-starter for chores, decision making, decorating and repairs. Must be a professional-trained nutritionist, personal fitness trainer, motivational speaker and voice coach.

I'm tired of being the one who is always in charge.

One of the nicest things about being in vacation is that you don't have to do the things you detest. If your laundry piles up, hey, it's vacation. The walls that need to painted, the microwave which was bombed last night by someones left-overs, the film of dust on the piano... none of it has to be addressed.

The sagging stomach muscles, the skimming of important documents - when I get home, I promise.

You can take the second dessert without any guilt - stay up late talking because you don't have to get up early tomorrow. You obviously have earned the time off, so why worry.

Which only worsens coming back to the waves of unfinished laundry, stacked piles of unopened mail, empty cupboards, animal hair everywhere.

Suddenly you have to acknowledge the scale which says yes, you still have 45 lbs. to lose - the mirror that screams, WHY HAVE YOU NOT BEEN MOISTURIZING - the church that whispers, you don't have your two grandchildren as an excuse anymore, you need to attend your meetings!

But our heating system is what began this train of thought. It's sort of like a faithful wife - you don't her until she is gone. This winter has been a particularly cold one, and our trustworthy little heater just keeps grinding on and spewing forth slightly warm air until the requested temperature is reached, and then shuts off with only one small gasp.

And yesterday, she seemed to be working just fine; at least the groan was familiar. It was a cold day, but I was accustomed to wearing three shirts, so I didn't notice any change.

Until it was 11:30 p.m., and when I walked back in the house after saying good night to Najale and Sally. And opening the front door, anticipating that nice rush of warm air.... in vain.

Some of you must have husbands who at least pretend to be a handyman. Who stare knowingly at the gauges, bang the machine with something silvery, take some things off and place theses greasy, dirty parts right on the newly cleaned carpet. That take two trips to Ace Hardware, come back with various mechanical pieces that turn out to be part c-117 and NOT the essential part C-118.

And then you call in a professional to fix the stupid thing - it takes him 12 minutes, and costs you $178.00.

My husband's honesty in this area should be commendable, but it drives me NUTS.

"Hey, honey, the heater isn't working!"

And that's it.

So then I am the one who has to stare knowingly at the gauges, bang the machine with something silvery, and take the two trips to Ace Hardware.

Fortunately, I, being the superior sex, also unplugged and replugged every wire I could see, cleaned out the fan area and rebooted the entire system.

And it worked.

I dust off my hands and sit back down in proud superiority.