Thinking Out Loud
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Our possessions are dictating our free time. Sundays used to be for relaxing and eating, and now they're spent cleaning the garage.
Cristin Fran
All I wanted was a Sunday afternoon to read and relax. Take some time just for me and do what I love to do.
What I got was a marathon session attempting to fix a toilet.An evil, demon toilet that wanted to torment me by making dribbling water noises which always decided to rear its ugly head at random times, most annoyingly in the middle of the night.
Having your REM sleep disturbed untold times an evening, for several days in a row, will tend to distort ones capabilities in the household fix-it arena.
Therefore, I went in with false confidence, trumped up determination, a little knowledge of where the water shut off valve was located, a few You-Tube tutorials under my belt and a butter knife.
I could do this, how hard could it be?
Three hours, two trips to the store, a Facebook plea for help and a pile of soaked towels later, I conceded defeat.
I relinquished my tool belt, aka-the butter knife.
I admitted to myself that I could not figure out how to repair which should surely be a simple household item. It was a disheartening moment to realize although I gave it my best, it was not good enough.
I allowed myself to wallow in this lack of independence shame for...oh, about five minutes.
Then I picked up my new novel that had been beckoning me from the time I awoke that morning.
Safe in the fact that I have a half bath in my home and my dad is really good at fixing things.
And well, quite frankly, I'm not.
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Diane Szczepanski |
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0200 Nd: 04-19-2024 d 4 cpr 0
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