What do you do when the snake BREAKS OFF in the laundry sink which has been backed up for a few days, preventing fresh influxes of clean socks (and you're on your second-to-last pair), and providing habitat for cave crickets to sickeningly drown themselves, forming lint-and-gross-bug stew ... ?
You go upstairs, knowing perfectly well where the plumber's wrenches are, and you pick another project until the point in the day where you feel like becoming even more disgusting than you already are by dismantling the pipes beneath the sink to pull out the segment of steel coil you've broken for your stepfather.
You plant plants, and give dirt to others. You find homes for flotsamming artifacts in the office. And you turn on the Star Trek DS9 DVDs in the background, for company.
You also work fairly conscientiously not to think about the fact that the person who really ought to be sharing your frustrations is uncomfortably ensconsed four thousand miles, no doubt spreading alternative frustrations far too far across the globe.
Gah.
***
Nothing. NOTHING. Is ever straightforward or efficiently do-able.
Nine years I've been a homeowner (last month). It really is worth the spitting and cussing. Isn't it?
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