So. Last weekend I realised that my hot water was not working. Bummer. So I went outside with my torch, trying to pretend like I know how to fix things, and turned a few knobs, and made the electrician sound: “Hmmm”
Then I checked my gas bottle, and someone had turned it off. So I turned it back on, and the hot water was restored to my house! Huzzah!
Now. There are a few things wrong with this.
1. I live in the middle of nowhere.
2. Who the hell was around behind my house turning off my gas bottle.
3. Was I inside sleeping at the time? Because: Yick.
I think it was my landlord though, because she mentioned sending the husband around to check the gas for me. I’ll bet he came over, and turned it off, before realising that it was a full bottle.
I kind of wish they hadn’t bothered, because even though it was just the landlord or her husband, the idea of someone prowling around behind my house in the middle of nowhere while I was potentially sleeping inside – even with good intentions – makes me feel pretty yick about the whole thing.
I think said landlord thinks of me as a bit of an adorable fuck-up. I mean, the first time I saw her I explained that sometimes I accidentally set kitchen on fire, but I’d try really hard not to do it to her house. I’ll bet that’s why they feel the need to make sure I haven’t accidentally locked myself out of the house or choked on my own spit or something every weekend.
In other news, my impending departure was let out of the bag by my boss this morning before I got in to work. So when I arrived things were unexpectedly chilly until someone mentioned that he’s heard I was going. All of a sudden the sideways looks began to make a bit more sense. Oops. I knew I should have pulled a few people aside yesterday.
I’m excited about the change of pace, but am also wondering what the heck I’ve just gotten myself into! Contracting is something I’ve never done before, and the number of ways the government wants to take money out of my paycheck for doing it is absolutely breathtaking.