Sometimes, things happen in my life which seem to be a
microcosm of the bigger picture. Today,
it’s my kitchen sink. A sink is a basic
house fixture. Water, dishes,
whatnot. My sink is a big, fat, piece of
shit composed of the same, rusted, caked parts from when the home was built in
1960-something. It fucking reeks. Seriously.
It smells like rancid food, even when I dump half a gallon of bleach
down the drain.
A few months ago, the garbage disposal started leaking. Drip, drip, drip. Not a torrent of water, which would need
require emergency plumbing, but a small, annoying, stinky drip. I found it when I when looking for a
screwdriver in the toolbox which is stored under the sink. All of the tools were literally floating in a
primordial, stanky soup of partially disposed food and run-off water from the
sink. Sitting and festering under the
sink, behind the cupboard. No one would
notice it, unless they actually opened the cupboard for cleaning supplies and
poked around – something literally no one else in my house would EVER do.
Finding that fucking mess REALLY pissed me off. I tried to fix the problem, but it requires a
plumber. Some things are better done by
a person who does that thing for a living.
I learned how to change out an electrical outlet recently (from an
electrician, by the way), but I don’t delude myself into thinking I can rewire
a home. And one home skill does not mean
I can fix fundamental problems. (Nor do
I want to, if I’m being honest.) Who is
delusional? My roommate/still-husband. He invites his brother over to do the job
(two months later).
Don’t get me wrong; his brother is a REALLY good guy, but he
is not a plumber. He’s a bartender. And now, not only does the disposal still
leak like a sieve, the sink doesn’t even turn on. No water at all. Nothing.
Nada. I washed my dinner dishes
in the bathtub tonight.
Is that funny? Sort
of. In the I-want-to-fucking-rip-my-husband’s-face-off
sort of way.
HIRE A MOTHERFUCKING PLUMBER.
His grandmother just died, and she left us some money. I gave my husband my portion of the money to
do some home improvements. I asked for
a new garbage disposal and a new door. I
got the door, but instead of new disposal, I got a new faucet (…inexplicable,
except that he is under the impression that surfaces are more important than
depth…). But no water comes out of
it. It’s barren. It’s new and shiny, but it’s absolutely
worthless, because the whole point of a faucet is for water to come out of
it.
I’m not trying to be bitter, but this absurdist version of
my life has got to be some cosmic joke.
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