Murphy’s Law: As soon as you buy a new place, no matter how perfect things seemed on the home inspection and final walk-through, some shit is going to break. Or in our case, everything breaks.
Case in point: On day number one, Alex took a shower in our master bedroom. By day two, it was totally busted. That means we’re 0 and 2 on master bathroom showers. (Yes, we had a problem with our shower in our last home as well.)
Before the end of the week, my washing machine—the one that never gave me a single problem in five years—was smoking. The warranty is, of course, expired. And then just before my cousins arrived from Massachusetts to stay for the week, the AC decided to poop out, too.
Thankfully for Lucas, the fans still work.
The thing about stuff breaking is that it’s never just one thing. Once a major appliance goes on the fritz, the busting of the things tends to spread like whipped butter on toast.
Last weekend, Lucas rolled up and down the car window so many times that it got stuck…of course in the down mode. It took three of us physically pushing it up to get it to close. Last week, when I got to work my computer passwords failed. Then, later in the day when my underwear started to sag, I yanked at the band and basically separated the enter “under” from the underwear.
Just to make that clear: I broke my underwear.
We expected to have to deal with a couple things when we moved in, but broken underwear was not one of them. Naturally, the warranty didn’t kick in for the shower, and it doesn’t cover the washer, so there goes the cash we planned to use on fun stuff like paint and booze (to get us through the painting).
This is the kind of shit that would drive me crazy in any other situation, but I’m still on a new-house high, so I’m not that worried. AC’s busted? Open a window! Washing machine doesn’t work? We’ve got a handy little sink where we can hand-wash stuff! Car window messed up? Just use the AC! There’s just one thing that could disrupt this delicate zen-like state: the breaking of the Internets.
So this is a warning, Zamora house wifi:
I don’t know who you are. I don’t know what you want. If you are looking for ransom, I can tell you I don’t have money. But what I do have are a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for entities like you. If you let my wifi go now, that’ll be the end of it. I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. But if you don’t…I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you.