And the Saga Continues (LynnK)

Two months and counting. Will this never end? Will I ever feel better? And will I ever stop whining?! Even more than you want to read something interesting, I want to write something worth reading.

The problem is, I have little to work with. Sleeplessness keeps my mind fuzzy, so most anything I accomplish is pitiful. I’ve gotten moderately used to the pain, which diminishes every once in a while. Then, just when I’ve started thinking I’m on the mend, it rushes back. In my imagination, it is laughing. Viruses can be soooo vicious. I’ve stopped getting my hopes up.

Most of all, I miss having a life. Happily, Maggie’s got enough life going on for several people, so I’ve hopped aboard and am living vicariously through her. Honestly, on my best days ever, I never matched her energy and optimism. What a trouper she is.

I do have the PACEM concert to look forward to. Every Wednesday night I’ve dragged myself to rehearsal, and I’ll be there tomorrow for a four-hour practice. We perform next Saturday night, and I’m hoping to get some pictures.

Meantime, I feel as if I’m in prison. A comfortable one, to be sure. But noisy, as prisons are. I know this from watching Oz. Here, beeping and banging continue unabated from the Endless Construction Project at the 1906 Lodge. At least the two-month renovation going on upstairs has ceased. I rejoiced when a new tenant moved in. But that didn’t last long!

When it comes to luck, let me put it this way. My loo runneth over. Quite literally.

Whether caused by plumbing errors by the repair people or shaky disposal habits by the snake-owning tenant, I have been beseiged by bathroom bothers.

Last week, Gumbah the Handyman (a lovely guy) was here for several days, searching for solutions. From time to time, we thought one had been found. But just when we began to relax, someone would take a shower upstairs and the problems would kick up again. Or come down the pipes.

How do I put this delicately? In my formerly innocent and harmless toilet, lack of flushability. Sucking sounds. Gurgling noises. Overflowing. The cat thought someone had moved into the bathroom. I figured a demon has taken possession of the john.

Day after day, Gumbah returned to clean up from the mess produced by the work upstairs and seek a solution for the problems that ensued. Finally, he thought he’d found one. For two blissful days, relatively speaking, we dared to relax.

And then, all pipedom broke loose. The toilet sucked down and threw up. When it had exhausted itself, unclean water began erupting from my shower drain. Two inches of raw sewage covered the tiny bathroom floor and threatened to move into carpeted areas. I ran upstairs and banged on the door. Yelled at the shower-taker to turn off the water. Ten minutes later, she did.

By then I’d managed to contact the landlord, who turned off the water for the whole building. While I was off at chorus practice. Gumbah arrived to clean up. Sorta. It looks okay, but it isn’t. I won’t go back into that bathroom until it’s been scrubbed and bleached and sanitized.

No showers for me now. And for the last couple days, I’ve tramped to another building and used the loo in a vacant apartment. Even in the middle of the night. Like just after I post this report. This morning I was told that a house-cleaner would come in and tend to business today. But she never showed, so I’m still making pilgrimages to a sanitary bathroom.

Other than that, all is well.

How about you? Don’t leave me hanging to dry like the only whiner in the country. I run a no-fault zone here. Any gripes to report? This would be the place!