Heat: Part 1

The walls have ears.

No more payments on Truck meant that I was looking forward to some extra cash being left over in my bank account each month. Dollar signs danced in my head along with paint and floor samples for my kitchen, snow tires, night classes, etc. I awoke from that sweet dream on Sunday morning and shivered. Around 10am I realized that the furnace was not coming on. I check the thermostat. It was showing an animated graphic of a dancing flame, which is supposed to mean that the thing is running. A phone call to my dad and $169 later I had a new motor installed and the heat was flowing again. It could have been much worse and much more costly. Please, please, please let the hot water tank hang on.

One of my colleagues twisted my arm into going out for lunch today. I had packed the fixings for what would be a sweet and savory toasted turkey sandwich but we ended up at the Spicy Noodle House instead. (Good-Wooden Leg designers, you were on my mind the whole time, miss you guys.) I picked the table by the window and ordered my standard bowl of spicy soup. I coughed on the first spoonful, by the third my lips were warm and my nasal passages were opening up. It was everything I remembered, minus the good-natured teasing that I used to get with the Good-Wooden group.

"Y'know, if I were you, I'd spend some time working abroad," my lunch friend said. He's told me this before.

"I've got my family here, my house," I said. I like the idea of an adventure but I was feeling sentimental over a bowl of soup. I don't think crossing the ocean is something I'm in a place to consider right now.

Job-->Truck-->House-->New furnace motor. This is my very settled, very grounded life. It's not for everyone, but that's not who I live for.