Good Friday indeed.

I was scanning some old blog posts recently and came across a little something mentioning that my hot water heater was on its last legs.

This post was dated Oct. 7, 2008.

And I’ve been living with that hot water heater for the last year and a half. Baths supplemented with water boiled on the stove? Yep. Knowing that my showers are done when the water runs out? Check. Resisting conditioning my hair for fear that the hot water would be gone when it was time to rinse?

Sadly, yes.

I had the ability to get a new water heater. I know how to drive to Home Depot. I can find someone to install the beast, and can even play dumb and pretend I don’t know I’m supposed to get a permit.

It just wasn’t ever high on my list of Fun Stuff to Do. In fact, it was pretty high on my list of Crappy Shit You Spend Time and Money On Because You’re an Adult.

Also on this list? Dehumidifiers, gutters, and shaving.

But then! My Guy must have gotten sick and tired of my occasional, unobtrusive, completely not bitchy or complainy comments about the water heater. And he offered to just make it happen.

Which he did.

Goodbye, you old hag.
Hello, you sexy, 40-gallon beast.
I’ve already taken a shower. I must say, I laughed through most of it because the water was actually hot. And doing dishes tonight? Well, I had to pull my hand out of the sink because the water pretty much seared my flesh. It was fantastic! I see a weekend of hot baths, tea not made with the teapot, but just hot water out the tap, and freakishly long showers.

And how awesome is My Guy? I’m making him sloppy joes in gratitude, but it barely scratches the surface.
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