Frigid ice queen is mortified after backfiring gas.

These past few days could have better. Thursday last week my husband informs me that hen thinks we have a gas leak, because he smelled something coming from the stove. I think, "Wow, this is the perfect time to teach him what I go through when I take care of a problem!" So because M has a wolverine level of olfactory glands, I tell him to take care of it. Warning lights should have gone off in my head, but I was too busy congradulating myself on how clever my plan was.

Saturaday morning the warning light went from yellow to red. My sleep schedule orders that I rise at 7:30 whether it be a weekday or not, because I my body's circadian rhythm has ajusted to my wonderful new job (more on that later). Naturally, M sleeps until when ever he wants, while I on the other hand must obey my body's damning internal alarm clock. After staggering outside to let the dog go potty and pleading with her to come back on her own accord rather than chase her down in the woods of the Georgia Mountains, I got into the shower. At first I thought that the nob was not far enough to the left for hot water and without looking, continued to turn it until it started to get hotter. It never did. It took the nob hitting the end of it's counter clockwise rotation for me to figure out that it was never going past someone-just-peed- in-the-pool-where-you-are-now-standing-warm. Where did the hot water go? I wondered in a bleery- eyed stupor. But I finished up and went about my morning activities. When Matt got up I warned him of the ice shower he would receive if he tried to bathe and he elected to polar bear it anyway. I sure he regrets not calling about the leak on friday now. But is the gas company open on Saturday no, lucky us we get a minimum two shower chill for free!

Bright and early Monday morning, I took the world's shortest shower and don't ask to see my legs, while M called the gas company. Sure they can be out today, just come by at lunch time to fill out some paperwork and pay the bill. The now red warning light starts to flash, I continue to ignore it. M's a bigboy he can take care of this. I am too busy my first day at work and decide that making personal calls at work is probably not the best way to start off at a new job. I convince myself that the warning light is a malfunction. M picks me up from work (we carpool) and hands me the receipt.

So they filled it? Wife askes and gasps a cost. Husband doesn't know.
Well how do they know what to charge us if they haven't filled it? Wife askes.
They've filled it before, so they knew how much gas went in the tank. says Husband.
Wife is not happy.

We arrive home and check the tank. nothing. nada. zip. not filled. Wife and Husband are mad. Gas company is closed. Red flashing warning lights now have audible sirens.

Tuesday, day four of no hot water, I figure out that if I heat a gallon of water up in the coffee maker I can sit in a puddle of luke warm water and bathe. drain tub and repeat for husband.

You're gonna call the gas company today right? Wife askes.
The gas company is going to pay. they must die! responds Husband.
Oh I am so clever, Husband is really going to learn what I deal with. Wife pats herself on back while letting out an evil laugh.
What was that? askes Husband.
Nothing. replies Wife.

Second day at the new job. I help here and there where I can learning terms like "grantor," grantee," "title insurance," "title policy" and "title opinion." Real Estate is fun. I had to call my former employer of three days to get my paycheck. Calling someone you made wait three weeks to hire you and train for three lousy days is mortifying. But if you saw the bill for my nonexistent gas, you'd be mortified a little bit for the money to pay it. The morning went slowly. I spoke with one of my co-workers about the high school student who has a work study in the office, who is insane. She wants to get married to her high school boyfriend the summer they ggraduate (2006). She knows nothign of the real world, we laugh. Things really perked up at lunch time when my boss, the Lawyer, came in with her new baby, Zane who is a day over two months old, and her oldest boy Kendall, four. That's when the scramble began. A Seller called and said they would back out of the contract if it was not finalized today, and while legally they are able, they only gave us the forms required to finalize things yesterday and banks must be contacted, forms must be approved, houses must be insured and form s triple checked and sent to the buy in FL and sent back. I'm still to new to help, so my boss and the other girls worked on it, while I got to hold the baby. Ah, the baby was quite fun and much more easy than all those forms, even with a body convulsive case of the hiccups.

M informs me on the way home from work that he called the gas company, who apparently has only one single inept employee to fill gas tanks with one broken truck. They claim that they didn't know the trucks weren't pumping the gas. They don't know what happened the trucks normally work just fine. They'll send someone out today, but the truck's broken and they don't know it they can be out for sure. It's the lack of smell that the employee didn't notice as he was pumping the gas that bothers me. We get home and M goes around back to check the tank. Zero. Zlich. Nil. Empty.

Yay! We get more coffee heated puddle baths! And now we are completely out of frozen dinners. Did I forget to mention that not only does our water heater run on gas, but so does our stove and oven? The cost of the propane alone inhibits us from going out to eat everynight while we scavenge for hot water and dinner. Thank God for the super hot fall in GA. If that company doesn't start to fix these problems soon the will deal with the wrath of Jen, who knows and is not afraid to use the words, "Executive complaint" and "Clark Howard."