Wednesday, September 8, 2010
On Monday, after my run (when was in my sweaty-smelly mode) I tried to take a shower. I say tried 'cause I could only get scalding hot water from the tap. I tried all the usual jiggling of the knob, turning off, waiting patiently (well, not so patiently, but there was definitely a pause). Nothing worked. I hollered for DH. Said a cuss word (promised I'd put a loonie in the swear jar) and then nearly cried when DH said the valve in the thingy that controls the whatsit must be broken.
I trekked downstairs to our never-used-shower-cause-now-it's-a-broom-closet. Emptied the shower/broom closet and had my shower there. It's not the same. It's small. I didn't have my favourite soap. I banged my elbow ('nother buck for the jar...)
When I got out of my shower I had calmed somewhat and decided a cup of tea would soothe the spirit. When I walked into the kitchen I discovered a very large, and growing, puddle on the floor. Seems the water cooler was leaking. 'Nother buck gone. I hollered for DH. Seems the whojee on the whatchamacallit might be corroded. I took the cooler apart. Soaked all parts in vinegar and put it back together. Leaked again. 'Nother buck in the jar. Took it apart again, vowed to be patient (or pause longer) while the vinegar worked it's magic.
They say say bad things come in threes....
Girl spilled the Brita pitcher (the big gallon one) all over the table and onto the floor on Tuesday.
I think someone is trying to tell me to wash my kitchen floor....