oiefsdjkl;dfnkl;argehio;njwe;agsdnmkl;tarejkl;dasfnkl;

Nope, that's not a typo. That's just all I can think of to describe how frustrated I am with home-ownership right now.

You remember our water heater drama, right? No? Well, allow me to give you a summary:

* April 2008 - We replace our 30-year-old water heater with a new shiny water heater so I will stop bitching about the water being too cold and that my skin is not red when I get out of the bathtub be able to take a warmer bath at night. Dad and Brian install it.

* June 2008 - The shiny new water heater stops working. I have a rational, totally not at all dramatic response to this. We activate the warranty. Whirlpool sends a repair guy. Repair guy says he has to order a part, which will take a week. I decide that's too long, call Lowe's, and they exchange the water heater for us.

* Dad and Brian drain shiny, new, 50-gallon water heater, uninstall it, drag it back to the store, pick up the new one -- which is the same brand and model, because we're totally really smart -- and then reinstall it. I am happy again because my skin is red.

* October 2008 - Water heater breaks AGAIN. I call Whirlpool and demand a new water heater and installation of said water heater, since we only agreed to install ONE water heater ourselves, and we've now installed two. Grumpy customer service lady cops an attitude with me, tells me they don't exchange repairable water heaters, even though I tell her they already did it once, and says they have to send a repair guy out.

* I call Lowe's, speak to store manager, who says I have to have the repair guy come, but that if this happens again he'll replace the water heater for me. Repair guy comes, replaces part (same one first repair guy was going to replace, so I had it handy, because they had ordered it for us the first time), then says, "I'm just going to go ahead and order you another one of these *insert technical term for shitty part*." I said, "Because it's going to break again?" And he said, "More than likely."

Awesome.

* April 16, 2009 - Water heater again fails. This was yesterday. I call Lowe's, speak to store manager, he says to still call Whirlpool, which Brian did. They were, as always, courteous and ever-helpful *gag*. Call store manager back, he tries to resolve problem. Finally tells us we have to have it repaired one more time before Whirlpool will authorize replacement of water heater.

* April 17, 2009 - Brian is pissed. He's now in the basement trying to install the part himself, because it came with directions and can't be that hard. I don't think we're ever going to eat dinner. Or have hot showers again. Or do dishes. Also, my hair looks RIDICULOUS, because there was no way in hell I was standing in the shower long enough this morning to wash my hair. My skin was red because I was cold, not hot. Not cool.

So, of course, when things break around here, they break in threes. first, it was our toilet spraying icy water all over me at 3 a.m. Then the next day the toaster broke. Now the water heater. Also, this probably doesn't count, but the upstairs living room cable box isn't working right now. I'm getting the little Mediacenter circle thingy that says it's working. What it's working on, I have no idea. Probably trying to fix the water heater. Or possibly the national debt. I'm guessing the latter, based on how long it's been sitting there doing this.

Things like this cause me to yell articulate things like, "STOP BEING A DOUCHE!!!!" or, "OH MY FUCKING GOD, JUST WORK ALREADY!!!" at inanimate objects. Which would probably be hilarious to anyone who doesn't live in my house, but for me it's just frustrating because they don't listen, and for Brian it's frustrating because he assumes my yelling is directed at him. It's some man thing about, "You have problem, I fix problem," then he pounds on his chest or picks nits out of my hair or goes and clubs a lion over the head for dinner or....something.....I don't know. So he gets all upset, so now we're both upset, and still have no hot water. And I'm hungry.

Also, work sucked today. S-U-C-K-E-D. I didn't even get a lunch break. Let me tell you what you should not do, Mr. County Attorney, is make the pregnant court reporter work until 12:15 on a criminal sentencing, then start the crackhead hearing at 12:20 and have it last until 3:30, then walk into her office while she's scavenging for a granola bar or just SOMETHING THAT IS EDIBLE and give her enough concentration to move on to the next task, and say, "Where's my order from the sentencing this morning? They need to take that guy to prison right now." Bitch bitch bitch, moan moan moan.

I'm pretty sure I glared at him for several minutes and made him very nervous, then just responded with, "I know. I'm starting it right now." What I SHOULD have said was, "You gave me exactly enough time to swallow a granola bar and pee before you started the next hearing. I don't have magical powers. GET OUTTA MY FACE BEFORE I START TO CRY."

Seriously, do you see two of me? Huh? Huh? Do ya?

On a much lighter and more pleasant note, we have another ultrasound tomorrow morning. Then I get to get my hair cut. FINALLY. Not colored, unfortunately, but cut. I'm going to do it like this:

This is another blogger whose name I can't remember, or I would tell you and direct you to her blog. I love her bangs. I think I'll leave my cut mostly as-is, since my layers are similar, but I'm going to cut a few inches off the back, because the long layer is starting to look mullet-esque, and that's never what you want.

We're also celebrating Easter at Brian's dad's tomorrow, and then playing trivia with some of my family and Brian's mom and boyfriend, sister and boyfriend, and brother and wife. It should be fun.

And then I will pass out. Because that's a lot of shit for a gestating chick such as myself to accomplish in one day.