Carrie called me this morning to tell me all about the trip she took to New Jersey to see family. Her mom had booked up most of their time, so she was exhausted now but had a great time. Then she filled me in on what’s going on with the friend who’s STILL cheating on her husband after a year but won’t leave him because she doesn’t want to be the person who broke up their marriage. Huh?
I hang up the phone with Carrie and arrive home from Dog’s second walk of the morning and notice the floor next to the wall closest to the kitchen is darkening at its edges. The people who I bought the house from had put in that Bruce Hardwood flooring over cement throughout the house, which is nice… in theory. I mean, it’s really nice to look at but not very practical in wet rooms like bathrooms and kitchens.
So I pull out my refrigerator from the other side of the wall, and amidst the dust bunnies I find a puddle. Hmm… That can’t be good. The puddle’s been there for some time judging from the look of things, and I find it origins at the point where the filter for the ice maker joins the copper tubing feeding into the wall.
What you should be judging me on here is not that there are dust bunnies behind my refrigerator but that I didn’t know I had a filter for my ice maker… And I’ve lived here for three years… And the filter’s supposed to be changed every six months (!). But I digress.
So I head out to the garage for some silicone tape to stop the leak while I figure out what I’m going to do about a plumbing issue on a Sunday morning. See, I’d wanted to spend my first weekend without Boy by myself. I wanted to clean out my house and get used to the idea of living alone. It had seemed like a good idea at the time…
I briefly ponder calling my neighbor, the Young Republican, but dismiss that idea almost immediately. His business degree didn’t quite prepare him for hysterical women and leaking refrigerators. Well, that and he shares my belief that the best way to fix any problem is to sign the invoice.
It’s just a leak. I can fix this, right?
Jimbo at Home Depot thought I could do it. He had to tell me this three times while he was showing me what I needed to fix the leak this morning.
“You’ll need to cut the copper tubing – “ he began.
“Um,.. Are you sure I can do this?”
He looked me up and down, “Of course you can.”
“Okay,” I say, momentarily reassured.
“Then you’ll need to put this plastic piece on the tubing after you put on the bolt.”
“Are you really sure I can do this? I mean, do you have a direct extension I can reach you on if I run into trouble?”
I really am the biggest pain in the ass.
So I’m home now. The Young Republican showed me where to turn off my water supply at the main valve. It’s in the middle of the driveway. Who knew? This was something Jimbo “highly” recommended I see to first. Then I cut the copper tubing, and put on the plastic piece and connected the filter to the tube.
Okay, here’s where things went slightly awry.
The directions tell you to test for leaks at this point. In my own defense, nowhere in the directions does it mention that you should have something to stop the water flow on the other end of the filter.
Now every towel in my house is soaking wet and sitting in my washing machine waiting to be cleaned once my water is turned back on. This will probably be sometime later on today, after Lily comes over to holler “turn it off” when it turns out that the other end isn’t attached correctly. Something that is almost certain to occur.
She’s waking up and getting her laundry started before she comes over to save me from myself. I reasoned that by calling her, I was still handling it. Kinda. Don’t ask me why it was suddenly so important that I be independent this weekend.
Anyway, I’m already drinking a beer at eleven in the morning on a Sunday, and I can’t get Jimbo on the phone.
Yeah, I don’t think this is good either.