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Thursday, June 30, 2005

Good Fucking Morning

So, where to start with this one?  It might not be so hard to start if I’d been writing about some of this stuff prior to this post and thus not need a lot of back explanation.

Do I start with the nightmare Guild Wars mission in which one of our party members mercilessly taunted, teased, and otherwise insulted every single fucking party member from the time he joined us until the time I literally closed the game from disgust and frustration?  Do I start with the fact that try as I might I could not seem to close my beady eyes and get any rest so I read myself into oblivion, finally forced to turn off the light when I couldn’t keep my eyes open to finish reading a paragraph at 3:00am?  Maybe I should mention waking with an abrupt start after a dream which had me literally yelling out loud in real life, “Where am I?  Am I here?”  I remember nothing of the dream, just that it was deeply disturbing and I yelled loud enough to scare TDO awake.  After what seemed like hours of sleep, I was awoken once more when TDO kneed me in the small of my back with what must have been all his force, all but shoving me out of bed (at least in part because I was already at the edge of the bed.) 

So, here I sit, on the computer, at what is only 5:00am.  I have not slept for hours, in fact, I didn’t even sneak two full hours in.  I am exhausted, but laying in bed got me nowhere near sleep, it just left me locked in a homicidal state when TDO started peacefully snoring in spite of my yelp and whimper after his violent knee jerk.  I promised myself I wouldn’t get on the computer until I got a fair amount of shit done that needs to be finished, and yet, here I am, because what else is there to do at 5:00am when at least half of what I need to do requires cleaning with _water_ and we don’t _have_ any water.

Oh, yes!  That, that is where we shall begin this tale, though it goes back further and I may have to explain those details as I go along, making this story even more jumbled than it already is.

Monday morning, oh, glorious Monday.  Who doesn’t love a fabulous Monday at the end of the month, when one is fairly broke, extremely stressed and wickedly spiraling into IDC (I don’t care) Syndrome?  So I swing by the post office to grab up the mail (because, understand, we live in bum fuck nowhere and do not get home delivery of any of our mail) and lo what do I find?  Bills!  Yay!  Let the people rejoice and the children sing!  Yes, a lovely little stack of bills, some of which were not even ours.  This was, sadly, not unexpected, but none the less wasn’t the particular treat I had hoped to find.  Flipping through I found our water bill.  It comes every three months and thus I almost always forget which month it is due to fall on and am generally quite surprised, in a not-so-great way when it does arrive.  However, our water bill tends to be around $35-$55 (for three months) this time of year, depending on how vigilant I am in watering the yard and garden.  Let me just admit now that I have _not_ been diligent, so I expected a very low bill.

$490 is not very low.

I swear to fucking God, I almost died on the spot.

I rushed home and demanded that TDO rush to the water department and see to this immediately.  “In the morning, first thing,” he promised.  He insisted it was a billing error, that they had simply added a 0 on to the bill.  Um, NO.  There’s no way in hell our water bill would be that high for this time of year, I haven’t been watering the garden or yard _at all_ so there’s no reason it should even be more than $35, if that!  $49 would have had me questioning the validity of the bill, even.  He doesn’t get it, he truly doesn’t.  I am adamant about keeping track of nearly every nickel, dime and penny that goes in or out, with the exception of his “allowance” and the money he makes from building, selling and repairing computers.  I _know_ how much the electric bill should be.  I _know_ how much we spend on the phone bill, on cable, on food, and while I may be a total dip when it comes to remembering _when_ the bill is going to come, I always know just how much the water bill will be gaged on how much water we have been using.

So.  $490 and obviously a leak.  He goes to the shut off valve to the house and turns it off.  Guess what?  The meter was still spinning wildly out of control.  Great.  The leak at least wasn’t _in_ the house, but that meant it was somewhere from the street to the house, thus buried underground with no way for us to be able to tell where.  Fucking fabulous.

The next day, the water company came out and poked around.  They were as helpful as a band aid would be on a high flow menstrual day.  Fuckwits.  “Oh, we thought you had galvanized pipe all the way up to your house.  We could have told ya where the leak was if ya had.”  Great.  So.  WHAT DO WE DO, ASSHOLES?  I tell you what we do.  We go Monday night, Tuesday, Wednesday and now we’re into Thursday without any water!  Yay.  Let me tell you how thrilled I am by this.

Meanwhile, my grandfather is rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery.  Surgery goes off without a hitch but recovery is frighteningly difficult because they can’t stabilize him.  They’re having to give him one medication to counter the other because each new one they introduce causes more problems.  TDO’s mother is in the hospital after a second surgery after complications from her first surgery with what is expected to be another surgery on the horizon.  Did I mention the $490 water bill looming over me like an executioner’s axe or the fact that we are supposed to leave on July 1st to head back to Colorado to help clean out my grandfather’s house for sale?

No, no stress here.

So, away TDO goes to all his male buddies so he can shoot the shit and get their opinions and advice.  As is par for the course, they spend endless hours discussing the “best means possible” for accomplishing this fabulous task and about no time at all actually doing shit.  To his friends’ credit, several have stopped by (after all the hard work is done, mind you, but still…) to check to see if he needed any help figuring stuff out.  One friend did loan him a truck, another hooked him up with a friend who would rent out his trencher so we could have a trench for burying the pipes.  It was decided that we needed to dig a new trench and lay new pipe entirely, completely circumventing the old pipe rather than trying to fix it.  (Especially since we were told that the pipe ran under our half paved driveway, thus causing an almost impossible situation as far as getting to the old pipe, much less repairing or replacing it.)

On Tuesday, TDO trenched the whole thing out on his own.  He’s still recovering from his shoulder surgery, so it was _not_ the smartest thing for him to be doing but he refused my help and no one else volunteered.  Apparently, he was named Manuel for the day.  Manuel Labor.  Buh.  So… after a time of thumping and grinding this giant machine through our yard, destroying daffodils and tulips that have been in place for years, doing God knows how much more damage to the roots of trees and other plants, TDO comes running in covered head to toe in sweat and thick, very wet mud.  “God damned, motherfucking, what the hell kinda… under the driveway my ass!” he shouted.  With my eyes bugging out in an effort not to laugh myself into a seizure, I calmly asked, “I take it you found the old pipe?”

He was not impressed.

Apparently, for reasons I can’t fathom nor explain, in spite of turning off the water valve to the _house_ he did not turn off the water valve from the _street_, thus when he hit the pipe, well, hot damn, we had our very own geyser!  Brilliant.  At that point, there was absolutely no option for us to even turn the water back on for any reason, emergency or not.  Thus, from late Tuesday morning until whenever this pipe finally gets laid and connected, no toilet flushing.  I can’t begin to explain what a thrill and joy it is to have three of the rooms of my house smelling so strongly of raw sewage in the heat of the summer months.

Now, I have laundry to do, two sinks full of dishes, floors to mop, TOILETS TO CLEAN… and you know… the funny thing… *we have no fucking water*.  I can’t pack for the trip because we have no clean clothes.  I can’t clean up the house and get things ready to be shut up for two weeks because I can’t scrub things down or put things away.  I don’t know if we have a place to stay when/if we get to Colorado because TDO’s parents have already said they didn’t want us (even before his mother had surgery complications) and since my grandfather is staying with my aunt and uncle and will be recovering from surgery, I don’t know that my aunt and uncle will want us there, though they did invite us.

I’m close to throwing in the towel and giving up, but I feel like TDO should go to his mom, should hold her hand and tell her he loves her, even if things are fine and dandy.  She’s obviously had a pretty bad scare.  I want to see my grandfather, I feel the sands of his hourglass finally trickling to an end and it scares me to death to think I might not get to say goodbye.  I want to help my aunt and uncle who have selflessly and tirelessly worked on Grandpa’s house and taken care of him day and night for months, and I can’t do a damned thing from so many states away.

After shelling out the money for the trencher and the piping, insulation, etc. well, we’re going to drain our savings almost entirely.  TDO just sold another computer, one for which he already had most of the parts, so he’ll be making a nice profit, but I suspect it’ll only pay for about 2/3 of what we have already spent on this pipe fiasco.  Yes, TDO’s parents have said they’d help us out with finances, but with their issues, we not only hate imposing, but I don’t know when they’ll be able to get us the money, certainly not until we get there.

My God.  Someone please stop this damned roller coaster and let me off.  I don’t wanna do this anymore.

Posted by Liberty on 06/30 at 05:59 AM
Posted under: See-Through

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Krush  at  06/30/05 10:14 AM

All I can offer are big hugs and an ear to bend if you need it. When it rains it pours, doesn’t it. Lots of love!

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