This weekend was a bit of a mixed bag for me. Mostly because my air
conditioning system went belly-up on Saturday. After consulting Google, and
messing with the thermostat some, I’ve concluded that the problem does not lie
there. A couple of reboots and some fiddling, and it was sending the message as
far as the blower, but it wasn’t reaching the compressor outside.
Both the AC and the furnace were old enough to drink legally when
I bought the place, so I’m grateful for nearly two and a half years of them
working, but man, am I an AC baby. (That was one of my biggest whines about
living in Europe: they really haven’t taken to AC. And don’t get me started
about Seattle—those people have no excuse.) And technicians from the HVAC
company I called three times on Saturday (and once yesterday) did not call back—evidently
if you don’t “need service before the next business day”, they can’t be arsed.
But it could have been worse—at around 1830 on Saturday I walked
into the kitchen to discover that the microwave, toaster oven, half-freezer and
wine cooler were dead. The circuit breaker was fine, so I couldn’t figure out
what to do. But I Know A Guy—and when I called him, he diagnosed that one of
the GFCIs must have blown. And it turns out he was right. What a relief.
So today, I’m grateful for the comfort of AC. I’m grateful that
this weekend the temperature indoors has not exceeded 79F. I’m grateful that I’ve
got a recommendation for another HVAC company. I’m grateful for the remote
electrical service. I’m grateful that all my appliances are working. And I’m grateful
that if I have to replace the AC unit, I can afford it.
Seems like a goodly portion of gratitude.
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