GONE, BABY, GONE

When I arrive home from work today (finally a day when it is still slightly light out), I plan to decorate the hot water heater that has been around forever and ever.  I have been intending to do so for two weeks, but it had been too cold initially, then I was sick with a hacking cold that won't quit, and I've been hobbling around with my busted toe/foot.  Pair all of that with these early sunsets (so depressing), and it just hasn't happened. 

All the way home I am thinking about which garland string I will finally donate to the gas company for this little endeavor.  An extra one from the tree?  A smaller piece meant to hang over a doorway?  The fat red garland usually used on the smaller tree that I put in the den (before I set up my new office area)?

I pull my car around the corner, up the small hill and ... I notice the gas company is at a house four away from mine.

Oh, no.  Did they?  Did they really????

They did.  The hot water heater is gone. 

It has been the last shred of the basement debacle and the horror of a house full of gas in September, and its disappearance should be calming.  Part of me wishes I'd thrown some tinsel on it and maybe left an empty plastic margarita glass taped to it.  Part of me enjoyed being greeted by it every morning and again every afternoon.  Part of me is thrilled the damn thing is gone. 

Actually, though, I'm pissed off at myself for lacking the follow-through and rallying my sorry self to the occasion.  I don't know if the gas company would find it funny, but I certainly thought all along that it was, and still is, a grand idea.  Oh, well.  Next disaster (if I survive it), I promise that I'll act as quickly as I think.  If that means keeping a string of garland at the ready all year long, I guess I'll have to take one for the team and find a safe and convenient place to stash a string of it.