Today was a good day!

Today was the day that the sofa repair guy was scheduled to come, to see if he could fix my sofa. I thought I had mentioned it here as one of my recent stressors, but it turned out I was so focused on the builders and “the noise” from across the street that I completely missed it out.

I have a two-piece sofa (Living Spaces called it a loveseat when they sold it to me, but it’s way too massive to qualify). It’s leather (and pleather) and is mechanized so that the legs lift up and the lumbar and headrest move forward, allowing you (in theory) to achieve the perfect resting attitude for relaxation. I basically sleep in/on it now, because I have discovered that while I lie fruitlessly awake when I put myself in my bed, if I am on the sofa with the TV on I nod off, sometimes for quite a few hours.

I mentioned that it’s massive; it’s so big that I have it arranged so it comes out perpendicular from one living room wall, and the right-hand side (facing it) is partially obstructed by a table, so that I have only ever used the other side to sit/lie on. About three weeks ago—in fact, almost at the same moment/day that the “noise” from across the street started up—the part of the button mechanism that elevates the legs went dead and stopped working. After spending one single night with my legs bent at the knee instead of raised into the air, I was in agony; so I immediately addressed myself to fixing this problem.

I called Living Spaces and they confirmed that I did, indeed, buy a warranty for the sofa, so I would need to contact the warranty company about repairs. They gave me the phone number and I called during business hours, but it was the day after New Year’s, so no one answered the phone. Instead, they sent me an email and said “thoroughly fill out the report at this link, explaining your issue, and someone will get back to you within 48-72 hours.” This wasn’t particularly satisfactory, since my legs were in dire need of elevation, but I dutifully did what they told me, including taking photos of the sofa with the wonky bits labeled.

And then I began to wait them out.

In the meantime, with the help of my cleaner, Nancy, I pulled the sofa out from the wall into the middle of the room so that the right-hand side (pictured here with all my afghan accoutrements) was clear of the table and I could sit on that side instead. That way I could elevate my legs. It was uncomfortable, because I couldn’t have my little table with all my beverages and remote controls and stuff next to the sofa; I had to keep that space clear for getting out of/around it so I could get to other parts of the house (i.e., the bathroom!). And I was used to having a pillow on the arm next to me to lean against while I slept, but that wouldn’t work at the other end for some reason—I just don’t tilt that way. But I could at least put my legs up into a horizontal position, which was what really mattered.

The 48 hours passed, and then the 72. I emailed them again. I went back to the website and updated my reports. I got back automated messages saying “we will be back with you within 72 hours.” Obviously false. So I called Living Spaces back. “Sorry,” they said. “You purchased the warranty with them, and they have to help you.” They took absolutely no responsibility. The manager reluctantly agreed to email the warranty company “to let them know you’re trying to contact them.” Okay…

Seven days later (10 after the report was made), I got a call from the furniture repair company that is employed by the warranty company to do their work. The man said he was calling to schedule my repair, and named a date more than a week away. “Are you kidding me?!” I asked. No, he said, bewildered. That’s the soonest slot I have. When we talked a little longer, he made it clear that he had just received the assignment about an hour before he had called me to schedule. The warranty company had sat on the information for 10 days before assigning the job. So, I took the appointment, which was for today.

Today the nice repairman showed up on time, turned the sofa upside down and fiddled with it for about 15 minutes, and pronounced it fixed. I sat down and pushed the button and up went my legs into the air. Mission accomplished! He left, and I shoved the sofa back into its normal position, rerouted my little side table back to its side, moved all the afghans over, and was back where I belonged.

But that’s not the end of the good news…

I woke up this morning to silence. No sound from across the street. For once, however, this wasn’t welcome, because the owner/landlady was due to come over this afternoon to listen to it, figure out what it was, and silence it. What if it remained silent and she couldn’t hear it? The weather had taken an abrupt cooling turn last night (of course it did), so the fan that we theorized was causing the problem wasn’t operational. I spent an anxious morning, but around 12:30 I suddenly heard the characteristic shrieking start up; the weather had apparently warmed sufficiently to set it off.

Monika arrived at 2:30, listened to the noise (“It’s really loud!” she exclaimed to neighbor Phil, who was outside moving the trash bins to the curb; he later said he heroically refrained from answering “Duh!”), poked around a bit, decided that yes, indeed, it was the fan, and unplugged it. Noise silenced.

She texted me afterwards to tell me what she’d done, saying she had taken photos and was sending them to the guy who installed the fan to see if he could come out to repair or replace it at some point; but she said the neighbors could easily do without it for a little while in the meantime. She also noted that she couldn’t believe that they themselves had endured the sound from inside the house, where it was equally loud, rather than either doing something about it or contacting her!

Tonight I am fully prepared for sleep, with elevated legs, and no shrieking of metal to keep me from it. Hopefully I can achieve a few good hours before the nextdoor-builders arrive for their shift at dawn. But if that is my only trial, I will cheerfully deal with it until the damn ADU is finished and hopefully occupied by a somnolent octogenarian and her cat!

Oh, and Phil knocked on my door to tell me he hadn’t been ducking my texts; he had a 3 a.m. call at the studio and had turned off his telephone and gone to bed at 8 p.m. So all is fairly right with my world again.