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The Hot Water Heater Saga

The hot water heater for our apartment sits in its own closet out on our patio. Normally, it’s out of sight and out of mind. And then it sprung a leak and was no longer out of either.

For hours last night, I had jeans rolled up to my knees, frozen toes in soaking wet sneakers, a rain jacket with the hood up, a wrench in one hand, pliers in the other, a roll of duct tape around my wrist and scissors in my pocket. The leak was spewing at my eye level, so I threw the towel hanging on my shoulder over the pipe while I tried to work on the brass fitting that appeared to be the culprit.

I dumped buckets over the patio railing. I swept puddles off the patio floor. I resorted to putting duct tape wherever I happened to see fit to. All I could do — short of building an ark — was keep the hot water heater from flooding into the apartment before someone came to professionally fix it the next afternoon.

So I righty-tightied the valve that shut off the water to the apartment.

The leak persisted.

I went around turning all the faucets on to run them out of water and alleviate pressure in the pipes in the closet.

The leak subsided.

But I had no water.

So I left the cats with a big bowl of food and big bowl of water (collected just before I shut the water off), then I packed myself and headed to a friend’s place with functioning water (hot water!) for the night.

I spent most of the night picturing Lily and Prince captaining an ark on the deep sea of my apartment, and consequently got little sleep. Since there would be repair people coming in during the day, I ran home before work today (after a free hot shower) and packed both cats into one bedroom. Both cats. One bedroom. No escape. I worried about them all day. I hoped for Prince’s sake that Lily and her claws would sleep all day.

And on my walk home from the metro this evening, I passed my bedroom windows. I’d pulled the blinds up a tad on one window so they could at least have something besides each other to look at.

This is what I found as I approached the building:

Lily was content on the window sill. Prince was a damsel in distress, anxiously awaiting his rescue.

They survived the day with minimal damage.

And so did the hot water heater — it’s fixed!

Mom said it best, though, it’s always something.

First my computer debacle, then this — what’s next?

Whatever it is, here’s hoping the next thing is less messy.

My shoes are still drying out…


My Apartment Smells of Rich Mahogany

That’s not true. And I don’t have many leatherbound books, either. But I did inherit a set of living room furniture today that aged our apartment at least 20 years. My parents are getting new furniture, so we swapped the hand-me-down set of plaid couches I had been borrowing from them since junior year of college with their old leather living room set.

Prince is happy now that he has furniture that matches his level of sophistication.

Lily has just been wandering around trying to figure out how to get under the couches which are much lower to the ground than the last ones. So far she’s gotten a paw under one and I wonder when she’ll give in to the fact that her whole body will never fit. It will take us all some time to get used to the change.

Maybe the leather couches are the first step to being kind of a big deal, like Ron Burgundy.

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