How many times must I learn this lesson?

As those who may know me can attest, my short term memory is not what it should be. Yes, I can remember quotes from movies I’ve seen 10 years ago but I can’t remember when it is trash night. So, this leads me to my latest lesson.

Last month I received the monthly gas bill from NICOR and was greeted by a $159 bill. Now, I know this is winter on the prairie but that seemed a bit outrageous. Confused, I called NICOR, and after entering my account number, phone number, blood type, and astrological sign was welcomed by a lovely representative…who asked me for my account number. Now I know this is a dead horse that has been beat from here to Des Moines, but why ask me for this twice? Very annoying. Anyway, the nice lady tells me the meter was estimated and not an actual reading. She said I could go out and read the meter so they could adjust the bill but since:

1. I’m lazy
2. It was below zero outside
3. The meter was on the dark side of the house, thus receiving no sun, and thus not melting the two foot snow bank (probably why the meter reader estimated)
4. I forgot
5. I’m lazy (sense a trend?)

I neglected to read the meter figuring the next bill would be correct.

Flash forward several weeks

I open my new NICOR bill and find a $140 bill. OK, this is getting a bit old. I look through all the gas industry jargon (therms, obscure taxes, plans for World domination) to discover the reading was actual. Yikes! What is going on here? I have the water heater set a little past the middle indicator. I keep the thick drapes down in front of the two single pane windows (thanks for not replacing those, previous owner). We close off the third bedroom. We keep the furnace thermostat set below 70. Wait, what’s that brain? You say the furnace rings a bell? You remember something about a filter?

Cut to me opening up the electrostatic furnace filter. I grab the metal filter and the thing looks like Courtney Love’s hair on her wedding day. It is chock full of cat hair, dirt, pollen, and various detritus. The only things missing are used hypodermic needles and small animals.

I go upstairs to clean the filter (upon which it says to clean every month; I’ve lived there 10 months…whoops!) in the kitchen sink. I quickly find out that is a bad idea as this leaves mud in the sink. After much cursing and scouring with Comet, I am pleased to have a clean filter and a sparkling sink. I let the filter dry and then take it downstairs to put it back in the furnace. Just as I’m closing the hatch and feeling proud of myself, I look at the side of the furnace. There the previous owner wrote to clean the filters (thanks). Filters you say? As in plural? @#$@#$@!

Let’s pause for a moment here. Before I continue with this story and the twist ending, let me regale you with the meaning behind the title of this post. See, this is the third time I’ve learned the furnace filter lesson.

The first time was way back in 1999. We had a president who could not only speak in clear English (“I did not have sexual relations with that woman) but also diagram sentences (“It depends on the meaning of ‘is’”). Gas was under $5 a gallon and Iraq was remembered as that little way we got to watch on CNN. A strapping young man was living with his best friend in a magnificent apartment. Across the street I was living with my best friend Lynda in a pretty cool apartment that had the unfortunate characteristic of possessing windows made in 1950. Not sure if any of you remember but the 99/00 winter was very cold and very windy (yes, I know I am describing every Central Illinois winter).

Lynda and I quickly found the windows, doors, and walls in the apartment were less than stellar. You know that candle trick people use with windows? The one where you hold a lit candle next to the window to see if it flickers? This is supposed to show you if there are any drafts. Our windows, the “draft” was so strong it blew hot wax into my face. After suffering a couple nights of frigid temps (I slept in sweatshirts, thermal underwear, socks, three dogs, and a sleeping bag) I went to the hardware store to buy out their winterizing section. After covering the windows and doors with plastic the temp inside got better but not as warm as it should, I remembered one of my chores from my parents’ house, changing the furnace filter. I went over to the furnace and found a filter that looked original to the apartment. After much cursing I threw the filter at the apartment manager’s door and then bought a new one. Much better after that.

Now comes the second time. I had been a religious filter changer ever since moving into my house on Lynx Ln. Every month I changed it (OK, I missed a couple of times here and there, this is me we’re talking about). Well, fast forward a couple of years and I’m going through a tax status change while also trying to sell the house. During this I forget about the filter when one day I hear a not-so-good sound from the furnace. I take a look and find the filter almost bent in half and coated in dirt (was Pig Pen living with me?). Roughly $200 later we replace the blower motor. This brings us back to yesterday.

So, now I need to repeat the steps only this time I decide to use the hose outside since we’re having freaky 60 degree weather. I take the filter outside, turn on the hose; get ready to spray, and nothing. @#$@#%@# Oh wait, I shut off the water to the spigot to prevent freezing (for once I’m smart). I go back inside, hop downstairs, and find the shut-off valve. Turn it on and am greeted by a stream of water hitting the workbench. @#$$&#$%^#$%#!@ Apparently I congratulated my brilliance too soon as I didn’t bleed out the pipe before it froze. Great.

Now I get to clean the filter in the sink again only this time I minimize the dirt staining (see, I’m learning!) by rinsing off the sink periodically. Take the filter back down to the furnace, put it in, and quickly surmise my weekend will now be spent replacing a busted pipe.

On the plus side, the house was much warmer that night… One of these days I’ll learn.