What the hell is it with this old building and its plumbing issues?
Don’t answer that. I know. 🙁
So yesterday morning, we wake up to find a puddle outside our bathroom door. This time, it’s not the tree-roots-through-the-street-pipes induced toilet overflow, it’s not the incorrect-size-pipe-with-a-bandaid-for-a-washer-that-finally-broke leak under our sink, and it’s not the never-connected-the-tub-overflow-to-anything-other-than-a-shallow-pan-beneath-the-tub drip that turned into a rainfall of soapy plaster onto our neighbor’s car parked in the garage beneath our apartment. No, no… this time, it’s the water heater that lives in the cabinet next to the bathroom, having overflowed into the cabinet below and the carpet (and padding) that’s already been replaced since we’ve lived here due to the above-mentioned toilet backups (back when every flush of every toilet in the apartment building caused an overflow into our toilet and the landlord insisted it was OUR fault… yeah… we have control over the way the roots grow into 60-year-old pipes out in the street. We are that powerful).
So, it’s not enough that I spent yesterday dealing with a mild overdose and the initial pain that caused the drug-taking to begin with… no, no, it’s not that my two hours of sleep this morning ended abruptly when the water-heater-replacement guy came out (yes, a 13 year old water heater is OUT of warranty, silly manager lady), it’s that the next two hours of sleep I tried to get (as the water-heater-replacement guy left… leaving the new water heater in the hall–blocking the entrance to the bathroom for all but the cats) ended abruptly with the entrance of a team of plumbers who must now dig into the wall above the water heater’s cabinet to replace the cracked pipe that takes hot water from the water heater to the faucet calling for it.
Number of non-stop hours of clanging and banging and rumbling so far: six, with no end in sight.
*sigh*
I really was going to spend today recovering from whatever it is that’s causing my physical stresses.
Having learned that the distributor for our books is holding another $2000 of the money from the book sales of October, 2003 (yes, you read that right… October sales), just as we prepare for the only real “vacation time” we take–when Keith’s son comes to town late next week, is not the way to NOT have stress.
Keith is terrified. He’s afraid there’s something in my brain about to burst and that I’m getting symptoms that shouldn’t be ignored. Yeah, well… when the free clinic can help out, I’m there. ‘Til then, pharmaceutically-endowed friends and a cold, quiet, dark room with no outside stress will have to do. Oh wait… this isn’t a cold, quiet, dark room with no outside stress!
No wonder he’s terrified.
I just keep going back to the amazing book that Faith gave me: Excuse Me, Your Life Is Waiting, and reminding myself that we attract what we focus on (nothing new there… Law of Attraction). So, I must keep my focus on the things that thrill me: my friends, my work, my cats, Keith’s love, being able to live on a very small budget, and the signals Mom sends that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
There is no amount of work that can truly “mend” bad plumbing. You simply replace what is broken, clean up the mess, and continue living.