...or a lack of, as the case may be.
No, for once I am not talking about a pregnancy symptom. Trust me, you don't want to hear about the detailed workings of my digestive system. It's not pretty. I'm talking about arriving home from work yesterday to find the gas meter sitting on the ground, connection pipes next to it, and a note from the gas company saying that they found a leak and have disconnected our gas. Um, what?
Yes, of course I want to make sure my house is not going to blow up. Yes, gas safety is a good thing. But I wish I had the time to describe the sheer hassle it has been to simply find a plumber who is certified by the gas company. Not just regular certified. Special certified.
The meter is right next to my front door. Have I smelled anything at all? No. Do we use the front yard? Yes. Smelled anything there? No. I also see no dead, brown grass in the yard (a telltale sign of a gas leak, fyi).
I will be taking a shower at my parents' house when we pick up Gabe tonight. The cold one this morning was awful.
Just frustrated. Just venting. Thanks.