It’s cold up here in Maine. How cold? 15 below this morning, with a wind chill of You Gotta Be Kidding Me. I woke up ready to go out to brave the cold, only to find out my stomach had other ideas. Maybe there’s some big red button in my body somewhere, and when it thinks I’m going to do something it doesn’t want to do, it slams the PANIC button. Or maybe my stomach’s just good friends with the flu bug and decided to have a sleepover last night. I have no idea. All I know is I’m not going out today.
Of course, the cold decided to fight back at my decision to stay in by coming in, as well. Denisa tried to get the dishwasher going, only to have a whole lot of nothing happen. (No, the rest of our pipes aren’t frozen–no worries. And even if they were, we get most of our heat from our wood stove, so we’d be just fine. Thanks for wondering, though.)
So this was mainly just a hassle. That said, if left unchecked, it could be a fairly expensive hassle. So I dragged myself out of bed, grabbed the trusty hairdryer, and went to work. The dishwasher complained some, but it’s now functioning again, and no burst pipes anywhere, so it all has a happy ending.
Except for me. No happy ending here. I’m going back to bed. Carry on without me for the day, world.