Definitely a conspiracy. Although I’m usually a conspiracy rejectionist, this time? No question. Conspiracy.
The existing (dead) heater had a six-year warranty. Today is exactly six years plus six weeks after we installed it. In other words, exactly six weeks past the warranty — and without any kind of warning, it’s gone.
Coincidence? I think not.
Today, I was hit with The Bill to replace the now-extinct indirect hot water heater. I am in recovery, hoping the next cup of coffee will bring me back to life. That plus two Excedrin.
With a lifetime warranty, the installed indirect electric tank will cost $2400 but a mere $2000 with just an 8-year warranty. The more expensive tank is repairable while the less expensive one is a throwaway. So, in addition to the money — which I am going to spend whether I like it or not — I’m trying to figure out if we will be alive in eight years. If we’re both dead, we won’t care about hot water, right?
My son whacked me when I explained I was trying to calculate the odds of living long enough to need an extended warranty, so I shut up about it. But the idea is stuck in my brain. I’m sure buying the shorter warranty would guarantee our longevity and I’m worried that the extended warranty will finish us off prematurely. I’m not superstitious, not me. After I gave up trying to determine our odds of long-term survival, I dove into the bills to see if I could lower payments for the rest of the month. If I trimmed everything all the way down, as far as I can, I will save FIFTY dollars. I can skip next month’s oil bill, but that’s next month.
I looked at the numbers and knew I can run, but can’t hide. I took a deep breath, took half of the money we have remaining in the world and put it into checking. It was there for an emergency. This is an emergency. I sincerely hope we are out of emergencies. I can’t afford another.
We are too old to live without hot water, so no matter how I feel about it, we need the tank. Whether we’re going to live long enough to need the warranty remains to be seen. Calculating survival odds turned out to be above my pay grade.
But the thing is, the existing heater had a six-year warranty. Today is exactly six weeks after the warranty expired and bang, it is dead. Gone. Finished. End of the game.
That’s got to be a conspiracy. This cannot be an accident.