If things have to go wrong, I’m happy that they’re going wrong now, and not at the beginning of May. Alex is scheduled to touch down at 6:49 p.m. on the second of May, and I’d really like it if my house wasn’t in shambles when he gets here.
Recently, the bathroom sink began to back up any time you ran the slightest bit of water in it. As it’s my landlord’s job to take care of these types of things, I called, and he immediately sent a “plumber” to come and take a look.
I began to suspect that perhaps this “plumber” was in no way a professional when, after punching a hole in the pipe by snaking the drain, his solution was to ask if I had any electrical tape handy. This house needs a lot of work. And a real plumber.
Still, I had use of the kitchen sink, the bathtub, the washing machine, until 1.) the kitchen sink began spraying water at my shins any time I used it, and 2.) water began leaking directly onto the fuse box in the basement.
Suffice it to say, my laundry is piling up, and heating water (acquired from the garden hose) over the stove is not the most fun way to clean yourself up. My mother refers to what I’ve been having to do as “having a whore’s bath”. Isn’t that a lovely notion?
Sorry that I’m behind on my reading and commenting these past few days. I’ll be checking in ASAP, as I miss the morning reading.