Our heating oil tank was half empty, and it was decided that it’s time for the dreaded task of making calls to various companies to ask them their price. Yes, you know how much I love making phone calls. If you’re still waiting for a call from me, I’m sorry. I just have this thing about talking on the phone. Anyway, I actually dreamed about doing the research and came to the conclusion that Gault had the lowest price. Well, as I was leaving my driveway to go pick up Mads, a Gault truck was waiting to turn into my driveway. Little did I know that they were coming for us (three of us share the common driveway). I must have contacted them in my dream because when we got back I found a bill attached to my garage door. In the mail was also an invoice for a maintenance plan that I did not request either. I called (gasp! ok, when it deals with ripping me off, I’ll call) and was given the standard, “we automatically do this” to my questions about the plan and the mysterious delivery of heating oil. Unfortunately, WZR was getting restless and I had to end my conversation with her. At least we figured out that the maintenance plan was a mistake since we were still under the same contract set a year ago. The oil will have to be dealt with by the bossman. Then I got a call from the “handyman” saying he couldn’t make it out today, but will come tomorrow afternoon. For some reason, the first guy who came didn’t call us back. Hopefully this guy will help us get some things fixed soon! They’re long overdue. This address is cursed as we couldn’t get the NYT delivered and I had trouble with the Conn Post folks. Hmm… At least the minivan is ready for pick up tomorrow am. I also learned from my husband’s conversations with other folks that I’m not the only one who avoids I-95.