Life: Hot And Bothered
Generally speaking, I love getting things in the mail – particularly cheques, free chocolate samples and letters from the good people at the Reader’s Digest suggesting I should spend the next few days thinking about what I will do *IF* I win (a share) of $2 million (maybe).
I’m less enthusiastic about utility bills but, you know, I’m adult enough to understand they are a first world problem and I usually just suck it up. HOWEVER, the other day I received the kind of gas bill that, had it been a movie, would have been a big budget disaster flick made by Michael Bay. Yes, it was the Armageddon of utility bills and surely just as much beyond the realms of reality, right?
Wrong. After a lengthy investigation in conjunction with the gas company in question, it turns out the bill is real.
REAL I TELLS YA.
Apparently we really did consume as much gas as a medium-to-large commercial bakery. But whether our (allegedly efficient) gas central heating system should be costing us $10 a day for only a few hours of heating is another thing altogether (investigation still pending).
I’ll admit I’m a newcomer to the world of central heating. I’m used to having a circa 1974 Vulcan heater in the corner of the house burning like a small sun, not having luke-warm air softly blown down on me like someone’s silently farting on me from on high. Sure, it feels pleasant to be able to walk from one room to another without the temperature dropping 15 degrees, but I miss having that single source of heat. That gathering place where small children and the cat fight to the death for pole position. That spot where school uniforms are able to be dried quickly before school without me standing for hours with them on a stick under the ceiling vent.
Still, renters can’t be choosers. The fact is I’m stuck with central heating and really ought to just be grateful to have any heating at all, etc etc. For the record, however, here are a few other things I could have done with the $800 the bill cost me – and probably have felt warmer:
. purchase and consume the equivalent worth of no-brand Romanian vodka;
. buy a one way ticket to the Bahamas;
. purchase matching doona suits for me and the whole family;
. build a small fire out of 160 five dollar notes.
And here’s what I’ll have to do to pay my $800 gas bill:
. pimp myself out as the new Post-Carbon Tax Pin-Up Girl for Today Tonight;
. work approximately 47 hours in the gas company call centre counseling other customers about their over-sized bills;
. hope and pray that the next letter from the Reader’s Digest comes soon.
Have you had any frighteningly large utility bills this winter?
The formerly fashionable NDM had three children and discovered that brown is the new black the hard way. The force behind the once-was-blog Not Drowning, Mothering, she now very occasionally writes for the sometimes-blog The NDM. In her spare time, she enjoys baking cakes, cyber-hassling advertising executives and collecting photos of unusual objects made out of paperclips. Oh, and negotiating gentle payment plans with her gas company.