These Things Come in Threes
On Saturday, the treadmill stopped working.
So, sure, it wasn’t the best timing given that just two days earlier I’d promised to walk/run 10,000 steps every single day in October, but still, no biggie, right? The treadmill was still under warranty (only just, though – one more month and it would’ve been goodnight Vienna. Or goodnight treadmill, I guess.), so I figured we’d call up Argos, they’d come out and fix it, and in the meantime I’d just run outdoors for a few days, like a REAL runner.
(One dead treadmill, this week.)
The thing is, though, I’m NOT a real runner. Not even close, in fact. And on Sunday? On Sunday someone switched on Autumn. All that lovely sunshine I’d been basking in, while blabbering on about how it was warmer than it had been all summer? Yeah, that was gone. In its place, the usual grey skies and non-stop drizzle that characterize the Scottish autumn (and which are why I hate it so much).
Now, the thing is, I’m very much a fair weather runner. If it’s dry, I’ll maybe be able to coax myself outside for a run: maybe. If it’s raining, blowing a gale or – heaven forbid – snowing, though? No chance. I’m not even leaving the HOUSE, let alone trudging through muddy fields, while my face goes numb from the cold – nuh uh.
I did actually go running a few times last week, but by midweek it was obvious the rain was here to stay, so yeah, it’s been fun trying to meet that daily step target – not! If the treadmill been the only thing to stop working this week, though, that wouldn’t have been too bad. Unfortunately for us, though…
On Monday, Terry’s computer went on fire.
There’s no photo of this. Partly because not even I am stupid enough to start taking photos for my blog while the house burns, but also because we totally missed it. Terry had switched on the computer first thing in the morning, then went downstairs to make us some coffee. By the time he’d done that, the fire had both started and ended, and the office was filled with the delightful scent of melting plastic.
Turns out one of the … actually, you know what? I’m not even going to pretend to understand what happened inside Terry’s computer: all I know is that it was something to do with a hard disk, and there are multiple hard disks in there, so luckily it was back up and running again in the space of an hour. It took several more hours for me to calm down and stop saying, “But what if it had burned down the house? We could had DIED!” though.
And, I mean, we probably wouldn’t have – it didn’t even trigger the smoke detector in the hall, so it obviously wasn’t THAT big a fire – but even so, it’s a bit creepy to know you’ve been merrily going about your business while something in your house burns, so I maintain that we’re lucky to be alive right now, seriously. The boiler, though, not so much, because…
… on Tuesday, the boiler died:
Er, so obviously this hasn’t been my best week for photos either, but this one is supposed to represent the boiler dying. It was either this or a photo of the boiler itself, so I went for the lesser of the two really boring photos. I know, it’s like the header image (stolen from my mum, by the way) tricked you into thinking this post might be a decent quality, then the blurry iPhone shots hit you over the head as soon as you opened it. Classic bait and switch, my friends: we bloggers do it aaaallll the time.
Oh yeah, the photo: it’s the heater we keep for boiler-related emergencies (we actually had to use this all the time in our last house, because it was always so cold. This is the first time we’ve had to get it out since we moved, so I guess we’re not doing too badly.), and which we spent the next few days moving from room to room on account of us having no central heating, and – crucially – NO HOT WATER, OMG.
(Yes, it’s cold enough to need the central heating on. It’s ALWAYS cold enough to need the central heating on…)
Time of death was recorded at 5:01pm. The boiler-repair company closed at 5pm. We spent that night carrying that little heater from room to room with us, and washing in freezing cold water, then, the next morning Terry was on the phone to the repair company as soon as they opened.
“We’ll be right round,” the person on the phone said. “In fact, I have an engineer on his way to you right now.” Which was awesome service, really. “At least they’re not going to leave us without heating and hot water,” I said, trying my best to be positive about the whole thing. I spoke too soon, though, because just 20 minutes later, the repairman called and said, “Whoops, sorry, can’t make it today at all! How does tomorrow suit you?”
“Well,” said Terry, “It doesn’t really. Because we have no heating or hot water?”
“Sucks to be you, then,” said the repairman – or words to that effect – before promising faithfully that he would definitely come round “some time” the next day.
“He definitely won’t,” I said, reverting instantly to my usual glass-half-full mentality. “I mean, he SAID he would come today, and he didn’t: tomorrow will be the same. Tomorrow he’ll call and say he’ll come round the NEXT day, then the NEXT day he’ll say he’s coming the day after that, and we’ll go on like that FOREVER. Then, when the first snowfall of the winter comes? We’ll die.”
“Good that you’re staying positive, then,” said Terry, who has much more faith in humanity than I do. And luckily, Terry was right: the repairman did, indeed, turn up on Thursday, and had the boiler working again within the hour, so heat – and sanity – was restored to the household, and we spent the rest of the day saying, “Well, THAT could’ve been a whole lot worse!” And it could have.
If these things really do come in threes (and they really DON’T, by the way), then hopefully we should be good for a while now. We can but hope.
In happier news, though:
Once Upon a Time is back on Netflix! And, funnily enough, Snow and Charming are making the exact same face in this photo that Terry and I made when we realised we were going to have to live without heat and hot water for God knows how long.