Counting the Reasons

I started this last night, but then Dave got home, finally, and he had to go through the whole mental process of “Oh my god, it’s raining in the living room.”

Yes, it wasa raining in the living room last night. Which explains why the nice man named Shawn is in my bathroom with a hacksaw right now.

The basic gist is the toilet overflowed, after a week of acting funky anyway. Sometimes the tank wouldn’t refill after a flush, sometimes there was a secondary miniflush. The good news is that the toilet and bathroom fixtures are located over the stairs and entry area of out house, meaning that there is nothing UNDER them to get destroyed. The bad news is that IT WAS FUCKING RAINING IN THE LIVING ROOM.

Shawn the toilet man figures we have two options: Best case, he replaces a valve and seal and reseats the flusharoo, and I give him 250 bucks. Worst case, I still give him 250, but he leaves the toilet unattached because the floor is too rotten to reseat it. (Actually, he used the word “punky” which I love. “If it’s too punky, you’ll need new floorboards.”)

The worst case isn’t AWFUL, I’ve mentioned before how much I HATE the pink carpet and bathroom fixtures, but we haven’t replaced it because we haven’t HAD to. If we HAVE to, hey, that’s not so bad.

**verdict! Toilet can be reseated, but floor is original, fifty years old, and rooootteeeenn. It needs to be replaced yesterday. So, the toilet is being reseated, but Dave is going to try to get help to replace the floor this weekend. Pink carpet begone!

So, expensive plumbing and structural repair + new jeans in my OLD SIZE that look HOTT (Two T’s intended) + new buton down shirt, only the third to ever fit my gigantaboobs = probably totally pregnant, right? Isn’t that the Murphy’s Law math?

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