Home not wanted

Home not wanted

The furnace had stopped working again and my toes felt frozen to the kitchen floor. I stood in front of the oven willing it to heat faster and hoping this was just a tiny glitch, a small in-fracture that would cost a tiny amount and I wouldn’t have to pretend like a capital investment was possible because it wasn’t. Nothing made me feel so small than realizing the house I’m living in is as cold as the air outside in November. Wrapping my mind around the square footage and three floors of nothingness I had acquired brought a chill to my spine. A chill of sadness, anger and long term frustration that I hadn’t been able to shake since moving into this place.

I mustered the courage to call a heating company, swallowed the vomit I choked when told the price just to look at the broken contraption in my basement and kept standing in front of the oven doing a mental inventory of everything that was wrong with my life.

Two days later a very old man was poking around in my basement and not two minutes into him stepping into the chilly air of my living room did he inform me that it was a lost cause and a new furnace had to be purchased.

“I’ll send you our catalog. You’re looking at around thirty five hundred. Not too expensive for a place like this.”

Sure, I mumbled to him. Thanks for your time and here’s the money I barely have for you to come poke at a block of steel and tell me I should give you more of this money I do not have.

“I can have it in this weekend for you.”

I quickly ushered him out of the house and made a plan.

A plan that consisted of three space heaters and a bottle of bourbon.

Because the time that space heaters will never be on sale is in November, on Thanksgiving. The night I decided to carry out this brilliant plan of mine. My self hatred was, at this point, unending.

I regretted that decision immediately upon arriving at the superstore of everything and quickly rolled my cart towards the dismal aisle that held space heaters. I chose the three cheapest ones I could find and made my way back to a house that, not only did I not want, but was convinced no longer wanted me.

Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Home not wanted