We slept in later than we should have this morning, then decided to hot tub for a few minutes before plunging back into the work of getting the house ready for showing and sale.
While running water in the kitchen sink to load the coffee maker, we heard the sound of water spashing in the basement - always a bad sign.
We discovered a connection in a PVC pipe from the kitchen sink and dishwasher had let go and was dumping food waste into the sump, creating a hideous stench.
So I called our plumber, only to discover that he is no longer in business for himself and that the firm for which he works is tied up on a big job.
Okay, we'll call the plumbing and heating folks who did our furnace and air conditioning.
But their number has been disconnected.
And our internet just went out, which is how we normally track down phone numbers because it's more current and less cumbersome than the phone book.
I rebooted the router and DSL modem and got the internet back.
Maria finally got in touch with a plumber who will supposedly be here this afternoon.
And in the background of all of this is the fact that 60% of our phones are missing or fucked up.
The cordless that belongs in the kitchen and the cordless that belongs in the master bedroom can't be found because Maria and everyone who shares her DNA can't be bothered to return them to their charging cradles after using them. And the headset that I use on my desk has stopped working. (It was working perfectly when I left for Colorado, BTW...)
So we're left with the wonky desk set phone tethered to a jack in the dining room and the lone cordless that docks on a bookcase in the office.
I'd complain more, but I gotta get back to work because today is in the toilet with two doctors' appointments, taking the Subuaru in for service and the Realtors coming to view and strategize.
I fucking hate this.
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Good news: Maria found one of the missing cordless phones under the parlor couch cushions.
Meantime, I'm choking on dust as I clean never-before-dusted regions in the bedroom.
2 comments:
Hi, honey. I took a moment to see what you were venting this morning and must say I resent the reference to my DNA. Wanna talk publically about pack rats?
Nolo contendere.
I am a admitted packrat and it's coming home to haunt me this week.
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