11:11 a.m.
Feeling a lot of anxiety today. Sewer is plugged. Again. It's been plugged since about 7 p.m. last night. The plumbers came out around 9:30 p.m., worked on it for over two hours, didn't finish. The two guys are supposed to come back today. When they left, they said they would be back in the morning. This morning, they sent their sewer cleaning machines to Munising, a city about 70 miles in the complete opposite direction of where I live. Now, they are supposed to return this afternoon. In the mean time, my daughter is staying at her boyfriend's house, my son with his aunts, and I don't know if I'm going to be able to take a shit when I get home.
I'm sort of feeling a lot like Ahab at the moment. Pacing the deck of the Pequod. Talking to myself. Cursing under my breath. Barely able to hold my insanity in check. As a plumber's son, I know the business. I know emergencies happen. However, I have a household containing, at the moment, five to six people who can't go to the bathroom, brush their teeth, or wash dishes. That's kind of an emergency.
Now, it's pushing noon. No messages. No phone calls. Radio silence on the home and plumber front. And here I sit at work, Ahab, scanning the horizon for any sign of a white whale. I'm pretty good at hiding my unraveling. That's why I'm sitting at my desk right now, scribbling this post in my journal. I'm trying to appear calm instead of unhinged. I have to say that the door may be coming off the frame if nothing happens by early afternoon.
Saint Marty may be drinking tonight. Heavily. And peeing in the backyard.
6:24 p.m.
An update.
Arrived home about a half hour ago. The toilet is back in place. The water in the bathtub and sinks is gone. I just flushed, and there were no hungry crocodile sounds coming from any drain. Life is back to normal for the low, low price of $1250.
Anyone want to hire me to write a few poems? Only $1200. A bargain.
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| Pacing at work . . . |
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