I posted this elsewhere, but seriously, it's worth a blog.
My furnace is acting like a pissy little bitch right now. I'm sitting here very frustrated trying not to get completely pissed off, but I admit I feel the twinges of an anxiety attack.
Here's the situation.
We have a digital thermostat on the wall in the dining room. That's where you set the temperature and turn the heat on and off manually if needed. Duh. The stupid thing needs it's batteries replaced every year. I'm hoping that's the problem because while I shut off the heat earlier this afternoon, I tried to turn it on again after dinner.
Note I said "tried."
After several minutes, as the thermostat reads 62º and the heat hasn't kicked on yet, I go check the furnace. I push the little red button. When it releases, the furnace kicks on. For one minute. The furnace shuts off. we do this crappy little dance three more times. Stupid fucker.
I go back upstairs and try to replace the two AA batteries in the thermostat because it's blinking, and that's a sure sign that they're practically dead. I figure we can pull a Frankenstein, and steal some batteries from one of the kids toys. Don't you know that the stupid ass toys that are actually working don't have the same size batteries? Yeah. Joy. I then check the one toy that I know has four fresh AA batteries because I put the last four fresh batteries into Juliana's Barbie computer. Yes, ladies and gents, she killed the batteries already.
As I tore my house apart looking for AA batteries, I was on the phone with my brother. He lives about 30 minutes away, a couple of towns over. He offered to bring me some batteries so that the kids don't freeze tonight. It's currently 18º outside, down from a high of 22º today. It's supposed to drop to 11º. Since my house was built in the 20's it's walls are made of plaster, and we still have the old windows. The house retains heat well, but not when it's windy and as cold as it is right now. An hour ago, the thermostat read 62º before it blinked it's last blink.
Please, God, let it just be the batteries. Let my brother's trip here be worth it for him. If it doesn't work, I can only imagine the anxiety. I don't want to imagine having to call the furnace guy out of his nice warm house to come tell me that he can't fix it tonight, because he needs to order the part and come back tomorrow while my house plummets down to 40º.
Oh, and why, you ask, can't I send my husband out to get some damn batteries? He's working his night job so that we can fill the stupid heating oil tank that isn't being used right now because of Mr Fucker Furnace.