Punishment? I was elated at being able to have the new folk over on the first surprise beautiful saturday of the year; riding on cloud nine, feeling king of the hill. I've existed 8 months of varying degrees of social & mental absentia & general embarassment at my living conditions (M & me split days after I tore up the living room carpet, so I was juggling a ten year breakup and not having a comfortable place to kick up my feet for too long): this was my big night! A definite closure, a hopeful step into the future. Like I could schedule and force a new world.So I'm trying to get past the notion that the fates saw me smiling and wanted to kick me off my block. Marika was the last person seen with the toilet when it was still alive and kicking - but she was also the first to call 911. I was pretty well gone at this point, having a one-way conversation with Anthony (who wasn't nearly as drunk or gabby as I was at this point in the evening), and I didn't want to hear her complaints that the toilet wasn't acting properly or that the bathroom was flooding with water. Throw some towels down! Sandbags? I'm talking here.
Worse, I woke up the next day with this positive attitude that things had magically resolved themselves in my sleep. Flush once; okay. A second flush brought up backflow in the bathtub and water seeping out at the base of the toilet - okay, we really do have a problem.
The solution is running at about seven thousand dollars right now. I'm summoning all my 'numbness in the face of everything the universe wants to throw at me'; the new muscle I've formed & exercised over the past six months, to sign the papers and commit the funds necessary for a final solution to my plumbing problems.
But it was worth it.
4 comments:
I would never say 'I told you so'; I'm just not that kind of person. I'm sorry, though, that I'm not a plumber and couldn't fix it or convey the urgency to you in a way you could hear it. I suppose I could have actually called 911. Next time, come over to our house and you can cut the power line or something. Do whatever you want, we don't own the place.
Don't worry about being gabby, I'm a good listener and I was rather drunk too.
Sorry to hear that the repair bill is so high. At least you seem to be looking on the bright side that it is forcing you to fix things. It may only be an outward display of positivity, but it is duly noted.
I'd rather lose the money than say, my left hand.
And next time I have a party? The plumbing will be the LAST thing on my mind.
at your next shin dig this will definitely come up in conversation...probably 84 times.
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