Self-Sufficiency

I got home last night and was told by one of my lovely roommates that the hot water wasn't working. We checked the heater and it felt cold, so we had a clue it was definitely the hot water heater itself. I noticed that the pilot light wasn't on. Because she is brave, said roommate began an attempt to light the pilot. Because I am a chicken (and it was about 11:30 to 12 at night by this time), I decided this was a bad idea. The plumber was coming in the morning anyway, so he could deal with it.

Roommate A went back to sleep and I went to call my mom because I told her I'd check in when I got home. When I told her it wasn't working, she got my dad on the phone and he talked me through shutting off the gas to the heater, just in case. This was all well and good until my brain started working. I decided I was going to do this on my own. Dad was in bed and was in no way able to or expected to drive to my condo to fix this. Could I have waited for the plumber to fix this--yes. I wish I could say that it my drive to solve the problem came from a desire to be self-sufficient, but I would be lying. Gas just scares me.

I assembled my materials--fire-starting equipment, a booklight (since my flashlight was MIA), and my glasses so I could actually read the directions on the hot water heater. I tried twice before actually sticking the fire in the right place.

Fire is an amazing thing that has fascinated men throughout the generations. I can see why. It's a mix of so many seemingly contradictory qualities. Somehow this flickering thing is able to give heat, light, power, yet can be so easily put out. Too much air, not enough air, the presence of water and fire looses its power.

So, enough of the poetry and the deep thoughts. What's important here? I did it. All may now rejoice.

**And like Prometheus giving light to humans in Greek myth, Miss A gave fire to the land of the hot water. All rejoiced in the morning when they were able to have hot showers. And Miss A felt incredibly self-sufficient.**