From the Even More Bad News Department
I don't even have time to tell you about the bus debacle. Well, debacle is a slight exaggeration. That will have to wait until tomorrow.

But I pushed open the front door to the alarming smell of oil refinery.

"This can't be good," I thought.

My regular readers have been following along with our furnace issues. I wandered through the house violently sniffing until I got a little light-headed. About that time my cellphone went off and my dear husband wanted to know how the bus went.

"The house smells terrible," I said.

While he was on the phone I went down to the basement and it smelled worse than upstairs. I couldn't find a flashlight so I grabbed a box of matches.

Just kidding!

I ran back upstairs and found a flashlight and opened the oil tank closet and hey, the fuel indicator was on empty and there was an oily sheen on the floor. [insert numerous bad words of great creativity here.]

I turned off the furnace. At least it's 62 degrees outside. For now.

On the bright side: at least the tank was already almost empty. Better cancel that oil delivery. Wonder what we're in for now. Will EPA condemn us? Will we finally tap that home equity to get the whole thing fixed?

Stay tuned.