We are moving in 7 days to a bigger house with worse insulation and lower efficiency heating and air units than the house in which we currently live. With Brian Williams' daily reports of upcoming heating woes, we are, naturally, a little concerned.

With this in mind, I have spent the past two days doing something completely anti- Slush. I have been trying to speak intelligently to heating professionals. With a 20- month old in tow. Naturally, I am sure that four local professionals are now convinced that not only am I blithering idiot, I am also a pretty terrible mother.

Here's a recap of what I have been told:

• You should get a geo- thermal heat pump with gas back- up heat.
• It's impossible to use gas and a geo- thermal heat pump together.
• I can't believe this system passed code.

Firstly, I'm irritated that I am buying a house which is 6 months old and I have to replace the heating and air and fix what the builders should have never allowed to happen. You would think I would have thought of this pre- purchase, but I didn't. Secondly, shouldn't industry professionals come up with the same fixes to my problems? You would think so, but alas, no. No they do not.

While I was talking to the last guy today, the doorbell rang and there was a very breasty, slightly overweight girl panting breathlessly on my doorstep. She shoved a can of Glade airfreshner into my hands and launched into a story about how her bosses pay her just to get consumer opinions and she only needed one more to finish her day and could she please, please just show me her product and get my opinion. It would only take a minute (HA!). Because I am a wimp who can't tell her neighbors to stop letting their dog poop in my yard, I said OK.

She proceeds to run to this van which looks like it spent its first 20 years following the Grateful Dead. Then a man comes racing across my grass from the van with a giant box in his hands. I groan inwardly. They are testing out vacuum cleaners. I should have locked the door and pretended I wasn't there. Who cares if they weren't faked out.

Alas, the man's clothes had mesmerized me. I couldn't do anything but stand there stupidly, holding the door open. I must have been under some sort of hypnosis. I kid you not, this is what he was wearing-

• Alligator skin shoes, in the color of orange
• Orange socks
• Orange pinstripe pants
• A BRIGHT blue shirt
• An orange and blue paisley tie
• In a fabric matching his tie, there were strips attached to his collar and shirt cuffs. I kept wanting to reach over and see if they were sewn on or if they were easily detached...
• A STRONG scent of smoke.
• A HACKING cough

So dude unloaded his vacuum cleaner, hacked into my breathing space, and told me to prepare myself for 20 minutes of wonder. Hold on there, buckeroo! Your girlfriend said a couple of minutes. Not 20. 15? Try 5, Coughy. So, he vacuumed until I told him to please stop vacuuming! You know it is bad when I get forceful with people. Coughy and his band of merry salesmen left, off to pull the wool over someone else's eyes. What a way to make a living.

The heating guy was amused. I apologized profusely of course, but he didn't seem to mind. He even said that he had heard they were good vacuum cleaners. Maybe, but I don't think I want to buy a vacuum from a door- to- door salesman that lies to innocent women and guilts them into 20 minute presentations. No thanks.

Swooning. What were feminists thinking? I could use a good swoon about now, and I've been threatening L with one for days. All I need now are some really tight stays and a fainting couch.