Last Thursday during routine furnace maintenance, the technician found a hole in the 2nd chamber from the left of the heat exchanger & a crack in the inducer transition of our 13-year-old gas furnace.
[You’re thrilled, right? Scintillating first sentence.]
He immediately turned off the gas & electric on the furnace and put a red tag on the front of it. The red tag said:
THIS UNIT HAS BEEN DISABLED DUE TO THE FOLLOWING UNSAFE CONDITION Hole in heat exchanger
Then he very politely asked me to go with him downstairs into the basement to talk about our furnace. I knew that this wasn’t going to be good.
[I didn’t just fall off the new homeowner turnip truck, ‘ya know?]
So, down we went. The technician explained the problems, told me about my two solutions to the problems, and then stood there waiting for me to explode.
But I didn’t get mad at all. I just started to laugh. A crazy, silly laugh. It was a laugh that a woman steeped in a life of irony would produce when told that her plans were once again being thwarted.
“You’re taking this well,” he said. “Most woman yell at me when I tell them their furnace is dead– and needs costly repairs or to be replaced entirely.”
Instead, I stood there– laughed & smiled– basking in the self-knowledge that just that very morning I’d allowed myself to dream that we might actually get the new wall-to-wall carpeting installed on the second floor of the house by Thanksgiving. That this year for the holidays our home might look tidy without 13-year-old skunky, dirty, original wall-to-wall carpet uglifying the place. 
[And let me interject here to say that wall-to-wall carpeting is something that I hate to my core, but I accept as a necessary evil of suburbia. Making this situation doubly ironic.]
Yep, that’s what I was thinking as the technician started to tell me the price of a new furnace. I didn’t listen very carefully to the rest of what he said. It didn’t matter to me. I knew that we’d be buying a new furnace, regardless of the cost, by the end of the day.
And that I could put my carpet samples back in the drawer where I’ve kept them for a couple of years. Waiting for just the right time to buy wall-to-wall carpeting… which I’m beginning to believe is never.