So, forget the whining about my computer woes for a second.
Imagine the much worse situation I was in when I was home alone on Saturday night and went downstairs to relax and noticed a little wet puddle in the carpet. Dammit. And then imagine what my face looked like when I saw that the area around the water heater - approximately 10 feet in diameter - was a giant puddle. A lake, really.
Oh. My. God.
I placed a frantic phone call to my landlady (who is as great as can be) and she drove right over to assist me in figuring out what the hell to do.
Kevin was working. It was almost 11 at night. Nobody else to call. The two of us (by which I mean HER) figured out how to supress the drip and cut the gas.
However, with the next day being a Sunday, there was nobody to repair the situation.
So although I made a valiant attempt yesterday to take a freezing shower, today I have abstained from the ice - choosing a more 1968 approach to my hygiene.
Thankfully this multi-linguist, guitar playing, songwriter who is also a plumber in Elvis Costello glasses came and installed a new water heater for us. He laughed at our feeble attempts at pest control as he clucked about how much rat poop is in our ceiling tiles. It was...
just.
embarrassing.
However, now I've given the new heater the requisite 45 minutes to warm up and I'm about to enjoy my first real shower in 3 days.
One of these days I swear I'll talk about music again.
xo
T.
