So Kenny and I decided to put our house on the market and pursue a simpler, “downsized” lifestyle. In anticipation of the For Sale signs hitting the front yard, we compiled a list of tasks that have been needing attention since…okay, pretty much since we moved in 9 years ago.
Since he’s at work all day and I desperately needed to get off my computer (if for no other reason than to see if I’m still capable of blinking), I thought I’d check the list and tackle anything that looked doable by someone not licensed and bonded by the State Contractor’s Board.
Job #1. Organize the attic. Piece of cake. Heave-HO’d the folding staircase down, and scrambled up see what needed to be done. Oh Lordy, my OCD went into overdrive, and I happily spent the next several hot, dusty hours packing, repacking, and labeling what stayed, and cheerfully tossing what didn’t down the open stairwell onto the garage floor.
Finally finished, so I piled each stack carefully into open storage slots between the ceiling beams. Sweaty and triumphant, I scrambled back down the stairs just in time to hear a muffled “CRAAAACK” from overhead. WTH?? I looked up and watched, frozen, as the garage ceiling SPLIT OPEN and several boxes slid forward, teetering precariously over the top of my little car. This is bad…sooo bad. (Apparently Sheetrock is not weight-bearing. Who knew??) With no way to fix it, I slammed the garage door shut with a quick “Please God, I won’t ask you for another thing as long as I live if you keep the ceiling out of the back seat of my car” prayer, and moved on to something simpler.
Job #2. Clean lint trap in dryer. How hard can this be? Pulled it out, gave it a good sudsy rinse, then left it on the counter to dry while I moved on.
Job #3. Unclog sink in master bath. Eazy-peazy. (This day just might be salvageable, after all.) Dump a bottle of Drano down the drain, wait a few minutes, then turn the hot water on full force to blast the clog through the pipes. Thinking if a LITTLE hot water is good, a LOT of hot water must be better, I left it running while I ran back to the kitchen to replace the lint screen.
Bent down and noticed lint remaining inside the screened area. Straining with all my might, it stubbornly remained an inch or two out of my reach, so I grabbed the bbq tongs (you know where this is going…) Seems the “fork in the electrical outlet” lesson from grade school is actually true. Awesome. While I was trying to figure out exactly how I was going to explain a dryer full of fire extinguisher foam, I remembered the water was still running in the bathroom.
Run back to the bathroom. SERIOUSLY?? Apparently the clog had not budged, backing up a sink-full of running water, now cascading in sheets over the counter, down the cupboards, and onto to the floor. “God, when I SAID ‘I won’t ask for another thing,’ this is NOT what I meant, and YOU KNOW IT.”
Kenny just pulled in. Well, crap. I’m thinking even my naked shimmy dance probably won’t save this evening. Maybe if I shaved my legs?