Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Ankle Deep.

I have a lot of annoying, boring, stupid stuff with deadlines on my plate at work, and I'm in the shower this morning when suddenly I"m in ankle deep water and the toilet beside the tub is going glug, glug, glug. Uh-oh. That usually means the main drain has clogged up again. It happens once every few years, it seems. Of course, it has to do it first thing in the morning at the end of a holiday weekend. I fooled around with plunging the toilet and Drano in the tub, of course to no avail - the blockage is down under the house somewhere. I left work early and called a plumber to deal with it. Same company I used last time - I love these people! Their flat, basic charge for a visit is $125, and that is what I was charged for a very nice guy busting his ass for an hour, locating the outside clean out, and snaking the hell out of the drains, in rain and thunder. Once again, I was delighted with their service. But damn this house anyway - these guys don't charge extra for coming out on nights or weekends or holidays, but did the house care? No! I minimized my time off for it, but still had to be here for the guy before the really bad storms threatened perhaps canceled the whole operation. As it is, it was just damp.

But this is why I have no accumulation of vacation time or sick time or money - every time I start to accrue a little of any of the above, the house does something. I had just been thinking this morning that I would spend the next few weeks in intensive cleaning and tidying and beautifying, and put the place on the market in August. I swear to God, It Knows....

I choose to think that it wants me gone, and wants a new owner with lots of money to give it a full makeover. It is a fine house, but slopping around in old plumbing and suchlike. It deserves better. I can't afford to do it, and if the house wasn't feeling so vengeful and petty, it would help me in the process of moving on. Of course, I am halfway responsible for its pissy attitude, because I resent still living here. So today I had an epiphany:

Let's work together House. We have a common goal - I want to move, and you want a new owner with enough discretionary income to continue the makeover I can't afford to do. You be good, and I will find you a sugar daddy with the bucks to rework that master bathroom - it wouldn't take much, but I don't got it.

Girlchild is at the Magic game even as I type. Go Magic!


Anonymous said...

Does that St. Joseph statue help with this? I think it worthwhile to keep talking to the house. I need to talk to mine.


Anonymous said...

Holy water. :-)

And a nice stern talk with the house.

-- CA Janet

Linda said...

All I can say is GAAAAAAAA! ankle deep in water is never a good thing. BUT having experienced this same issue myself it is always a good thing to know just who to call and exactly how much it will cost to fix it:)

cate stitch said...

Hi Catherine,

This is too funny. I'm Catestitch from Raverly and saw that you had this blog. I too spell Catherine the same way...so I always like to see my name spelled the same, don't ask me why. Maybe it validates that I exsist!
The HOUSE. I have one that I can't afford to do anything with but my choices might be made for me. lol. Was laid off from Citigroup in Dec. and have hired a lawyer to work w/my mortgage co. to lwr pymnts, yada yada. We'll see.
I have a friend who called our houses "big, rotting tomatoes."
I find that your conversation with the house is a start. I use to threaten my perreniels to perform or out they go and it worked well.
I keep telling my house that I love it so I don't lose it but renting someone elses problem doesn't seem like such a bad idea.
See you back on Raverly. I'm moderator for "Yarn Over the Falls" - so join us for your input.
Have a great day.

Catherine said...

It's so hard for those of us who spell Catherine properly! :-) Do you ever get somebody on the telephone addressing you as Cath-er-EEEN? I mean, seriously, this spelling has been around for centuries, it is the base, the default spelling. BTW, I always wanted to be a Cate, but somehow I've always been Catherine or Cath. Rarely Cathy, but I don't slap people for it. My cousins call me Cathy. I think they are the only people on the planet who do.

I'll look for your group - though I've been on Ravelry for quite a while and only post sporadically.