Our furnace went out tonight. Not such a big deal if we lived in a place like Florida or Hawaii or the Equator, but a huge deal if you live in the frozen tundra known as Northern Illinois.
I called Drew to let him know that the furnace was obviously not working because the thermostat read that it was 61 in here when I had it set at 68. Brrrrr!!!! He came home for dinner and started working on it. After talking to some people, including his dad, they decided that a certain part needed to be replaced. Luckily, Drew's dad had one. He came over. Bad news. The part didn't work.
Drew and Mark worked on the furnace for about an hour and a half, where Drew got progressively more and more frustrated. They came upstairs and decided that they couldn't figure it out so we would need to call a repairman.
The repairman called Drew back and started to walk him through the furnace. I guess that the guy didn't have the part that was broken and told Drew about something that needed to be reset. I don't know what happened with that, but the next thing I hear is a bunch of banging. I guess the guy said to "bang the shit" out of a certain part. Low and behold, the furnace started working!
Our house is slowly warming up again. I'm pretty thankful that it seems to be working for now because the repairman was "nice" enough to inform us of his fee to come out. $60 just to come out and then $23 for every 15 minutes he's here. That's one hell of an hourly wage!
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