Square Peg ● Round Hole







I despise having my HVAC serviced every six months. Being an adult dictates having a maintenance agreement. That is the smart thing to spend money on, you know, just in case it stops working. Let’s get back to why I deplore the visits. First, they give you a window of time you are held hostage. Yesterday, it was from the hours of 12-2. During this epic time of trying to avoid a virus, I am sitting at home anyway, but you get the gist. It’s a power play.

The technician shows ups around 1:20. Finally, I think, we can get this over with and I don’t have to do this for another six months. It is not the same technician that normally comes because that one tested positive for COVID. Awesome. This guy greets me with a piece of paper, that he shoves in my hand, urging me to do a survey regarding his work. Well, you haven’t done anything yet and I despise surveys. Unless he spun gold while he worked on the furnace, I won’t be doing it. Now before you get all judgy, I will definitely do it IF and only IF the service is either over-the-top amazing. I have my limits. Plus, I have been a customer for over twenty-years, and I have filled out plenty.

I take him on a three-hour tour of the basement. -kidding, I just love the Gilligan’s Island reference – and left him to do his job. I warned him that he might discover two cats roaming around as they are still adjusting to their new canine sister. The good news – well not for Luna – was that she was currently at the vet getting spade, so the cats didn’t have to worry about being their new sister’s play thing.

He comes back upstairs hours later. Joking. It just seemed that way, to tell me everything was good, but he does need to replace the pad for the humidifier. Oh, and he informed me that he washed his hands in the downstairs bathroom to remove the cat dander. Thanks for sharing. I get your passive-aggressive statement and raise you a “I don’t really care. Just please do your job and get out of my home.” I don’t actually say that. I want to, but restrain myself. At the point he went to get the pad for my humidifier, I crumbled up the survey in my hand, in a very dramatic fashion, and put it in the trash. Honestly, I wasn’t going to do it anyway, but the action made me feel a little bit better.

Once he was finished, he shared how hard it was to put the pad in and how he worked up a sweat. This was another delightful passive-aggressive statement indicating that I might have some crap obstructing his objective aka the furnace. For the record, yes, there are items stored near the furnace, but seriously they are not in his way. Plus, I am no Marie Kondo. Maye some of that shit sill sparks joy. He is just a drama Llama. I don’t respond. I don’t even apologize because at this point, I just want him gone.

As he walks out the door, I wish him “happy holidays” and shut the door. Bailey, who is sitting on the sofa waiting to go back to his residence downstairs, says,” That went well.” and I laugh. Because, honestly, there aren’t a lot of words to describe that visit. Odd. Weird. Okay, so there are a couple and truthfully, maybe he was having a bad day. Or, perhaps, he is just not a people person. I can relate. I suppose I need to Marie Kondo my thought process. Perhaps I will put that on my list of things to do.