My children live far away and my mom has passed on, so I planned a quiet restful day with kitty, writing, movie at home, stitchery, etc. No need for a crowded annoying brunch or peeps coming over to pester me with flowers and whatnottery. I was looking forward to a nice day alone to catch up.
But first my bathtub/shower stopped draining water. I thought okay, no biggie, it’s just draining slowly and I will text my landlord dude guy later to deal with it tomorrow. My sink is also slow, and he can fix both things at once, efficiency rah. After a little bit I went to check the tub again and it hadn’t drained at all since my shower, so that was just Not Good. I started having some anxiety about work tomorrow and things of that nature, making sure to dry my hair in such a way that it could last for two days.
I had some tea and checked the tub again. Nope, nothing. All the yucko shampooey water was still there. So, I made my bed and washed the dishes as you do when you think your landlord might be coming over later. Then, naturally, I bailed all the yucko shampooey water out of the tub with a cup and flushed it away, cleaned the tub and shower curtain all nice and sparkling, since I couldn’t have my landlord and/or plumber seeing anything yucko. That would be gross.
Then I refilled the tub one inch or so with nice clean perfect water, texted my landlord that things were amiss, and waited for his reply. He called after a bit and said he’d fix everything tomorrow, Monday. Okay. I could live with that.
In the meantime, I went back to my beautiful clean tub to discover that the perfect water had drained out and in its place, from the bowels of hell, was a giant pile of dirt. WHAT?! This was not smelly poopoo dirt or anything like that, but dirt-dirt, like from outdoors. How could dirt-dirt get up to my second floor apartment? Why did it need to burp out of the drain for the nice clean water to go down? What was this mystery trade-off?
Well. I got out some trusty disposable cleaning gloves and bleach and wiped up the dirt-dirt. Soon the tub was even cleaner than before, so shiny and gleaming it hurt my eyes to look at the thing. In fact, I was getting a giant migraine from all this tubby gorgeousness. Again, I ran some nice clear water in the tub and kept checking on it. Eventually it went down (after a million years) and left a teensy bit of residue ~ not the huge clumps of dirt, just a few specks. I wiped them away and did it again. Same. I’ll probably keep doing this the rest of the day because this is how I am.
Obviously there’s a voracious creature waking in the pipes, something alien that was left here by a spaceship, a dirty hairy drain monster that will soon burst through and devour us all, beginning with my kitty and me sometime tonight after I fall asleep during one of the tub rinse/wipe/refill cycles. Gatsby seems unconcerned because he’s a cat. But really there’s nothing we can do, so we may as well nap and dream our last dream.
Happy Mother’s Day!