Today’s post is a little different for many reasons. To get the full picture… you need to travel back into the past with me. It’ll be interesting… entertaining… educational… or something like that.
Once upon a time, back at 9am this morning, we heard the toilet doing that thing it’s been doing for the last several days… ever since the handy-dandy landlord’s helper – i.e. jack of all trades guy – came and “fixed” said toilet.
This, after a fun-filled time trying to get the original “contents” out of the way before they got there. Go ahead and imagine it… every bit as yucky as your own memories, since as adults, we’ve all had a run-in or two with the toilet. Am I right or am I right?
So, toilet repaired but “running” every so often.
At this point, you also need to know that our water bill – for inexplicable reasons – zoomed up $400 a couple of months ago. I mean, it was getting higher and higher over the last year and then that one at the beginning of fall was like, “Here, hold my beeer!”.
So, it stands to reason that we are concerned about running water for no reason at all.
Actually, I need to dip back to last night, when I first noticed it. Hubby texted the landlord who said, “Meh.” and basically that it’s normal with this new toilet thingy.
My ass! But I digress.
This morning it’s doing it every five minutes or so. It CANNOT be normal. No way!
I ask hubby nicely – with an edge, you know what I mean – to please text the jackalope, er, I mean nice landlord man and tell him that every five minutes is not gonna cut it. Landlord writes back and says he’ll get someone on it. We know what that means.
So, I need to get up and cracking in case he texts back and says he’s on his way, which can mean any time between that moment and 9pm.
In the meantime, we try to figure out what’s happening ourselves, husband from his office and me at home – texting back and forth.
One thing we wanted to make sure of is that we aren’t being charged… so… we needed a reading off the water meter, which is in the storage room downstairs, with the hot water heater, a second toilet that came in very handy when the one upstairs was out of commission and washer and dryer. So, I run down there to take a photo of it and text it to my husband.
Funny thing happened when I opened the door to the room. Haha… I know you’ll enjoy this as I did…
Why? Because some pipe is leaking… drip, drip, drip, drip. I take a photo of the water meter and also a video of the leaking pipe. I run upstairs to turn off the water to the toilet to see if that helps. It doesn’t. Back and forth I go… toilet, bath, sink upstairs… each one turned off, no change in the dripping.
What fresh hell?
So, I get out of my pajamas because – remember – the landlord could show up at any time. Then I get a towel and mop up the floor downstairs. Hilariously, the leaking has stopped. So funny. So, so funny.
I’m running around the house gathering stuff and straightening … and had brought the laundry down, which I had also planned to do today. I was not – repeat NOT – gonna let this get to me. Live like it’s a regular day, Sher. Don’t let your anxiety win. Go me!
By this time, I’m a sweaty mess. I had planned to take a bath with my new rosy-scented bath salts and I said to myself, “Self, if he unlocks the door without me answering, he deserves what he gets, which will be a big-ass blob o’ Sheryl”… and I had a nice laugh at that along with an abbreviated, though wonderful bath. I’m no martyr.
After, I had my big fuzzy robe on and went downstairs to check on the leak, since the draining bath water is significant and maybe that’s what it takes to cause the leak. Hubby had showered this morning, maybe it was that?
I’d already started laundry…
Nope, nothing. No leak. Crazy, right? I know!
I put the first load of laundry into the dryer and started the second. There really wasn’t enough to make a full load so I did what any thoughtful person would do. I pulled off my bathrobe and threw it in to balance it out. It was time for a wash anyway. I’m so smart.
I ran upstairs to get my underwear, came down and began heating water for cocoa. I was pulling on yoga pants when I realized my phone wasn’t where I’d left it. Don’t ask why it crossed my mind at that moment. Who the hell knows. Problem was, I wasn’t even sure where that was!
Think Sher, think!
And then I remembered. Wilst hurrying half-naked, picking stuff up and straightening out, I’d slipped the phone in the pocket of my robe!
OMFG, it was in the washing machine.
I ran – and folks, you know I don’t do the runnin’ thing without a good reason – and the basin was full. My wet, heavy robe had no phone in the pocket. I reached around and around at the bottom of the basin and couldn’t find it. I had to get some of the water out! So, I did the only thing I could. I turned it to the empty cycle, which automatically spins. There’s a lock on there, you know. So, I had to wait.
And that’s how my phone ended up in the washing machine.
The phone, which might have survived had I not tried to turn it on, shorted out. I went online and it said – FIRST, turn phone OFF. DO NOT turn on or you could short it out.
Yeah, it’s in a baggie with a couple of silica bags… I’d read about that, too. Thanks, Pinterest. I can tell… it’s soaked right through. It’s dead, dead, dead.
PS: To add insult to injury – and you’ll appreciate this – I took off my pants, which were now wet from all the sloshing water, and shook them out. I shook them so hard they flew into Hannah’s wet cat food dish.
Yeah, it’s been a day.