On New Years Day this year, I decided to declare 2007 to be the year of plumbing. Last week, in my gym, I realized that January was definitely the month of plumbing.
One day last week, on what would be a pretty average gym day, in a pretty average week, I went to the gym to do a pretty average workout. I needed the average. I longed for the average. I can't have adventures all the time.
Kym, the Gym girl, told me that the water guys had come by and that the water on the whole block was off. It was only suppose to be off for an hour, but Kym was moving into hour three with no bathroom. She was thirsty but she didn't want to drink because who knows when the bathrooms would come back.
In addition to no bathrooms, there was also no water fountain, so I had to rethink my workout strategy in order to minimize sweat. About twenty minutes into my workout, the water came back on and order was restored to my gym world. Since I was committed to my minimal sweat workout, I finished with my hundred crunches (no pushups, hate pushups) and went home.
While Kym and I were lamenting the lack of water in our urban desert and why a gym was the worst place (second to a restaurant) to lose water, I told her about what happened on New Years and why I believed 2007 (or at least January) was the year of plumbing.
First, I need to give you a little background. Tom, my significant other, is a master handyman. He is one of those guys (a guy-guy I say jokingly) who can use tools and build stuff. He actually works on his own car and changes his own oil. He's built furniture and laid down flooring. He installed his own dishwasher and microwave. He is also president of his Condo Association and fearless leader of the other Condo people in times of crisis (like when the fire alarm goes off accidentally).
Every New Years Eve, Tom and I have a dinner party for friends and family at his condo. There are usually soups, salads, and meat dishes along with wine and beer. We start early, so if people want to leave before midnight to go to other parties or bars, they can. In fact, one year everyone left before midnight, and we stepped into 2006 without much noise. For Tom and myself, it's an enjoyable evening, and we don't have to drive anywhere.
This year, at around eleven, one of our friends discretely told Tom that the toilet in the bathroom wasn't working. Tom checked it out. Not only was there no water in the toilet, but we got to witness the stream of water from the kitchen faucet become only a series of drips. This was not good.
After some inspecting, Tom concluded that the water was off in the whole building. However, in the dark, he wasn't sure if the water had been turned off by hand or if there was a larger problem.
We continued to enjoy our New Years feasting with the aid of bottled water and beer. We even watched fireworks from the roof. It was a one of those nights with a lot of simple stuff that added up to something great.
However. . .
The next morning, the Condo calls started early. There was no water. There was no water. Help! Tom jumped out of bed, called the plumber, called the management company, and went downstairs to check out the thingie that brings water into the building.
Sure enough, in the light of a new day in a new year, Tom saw that the water was off, so he turned it back on again. As I was slowly becoming conscious (I am not a morning person), I heard the toilet water filling up. It was the best sound I could have heard to start my new year.
Why had the water gone off in the building on New Years? The culprit turned out to be the Garden Lady who had flowers and plants around the outside of the building. Her hose was dripping, so she (unknowingly) turned off the water to the whole building. Oooops.
Oh whatever, I'm just going to go with the flow. Yes, flow. I'm going to go with the flow (and the flush).
Lately, I've been having a recurring dream in which I get hit by a wave. Let me just say that I really hate it when people email me their dreams, so I apologize if I'm making anyone feel ‘ick, too personal'. Still, with all this talk of water, I guess it fits in.
So in this dream, I'm standing on shore or on the dock of a marina, and a big wave just comes and hits me. Woosh. I don't drown. I don't get swept up in it. I just get very wet. After the wave recedes, I'm still standing right where I was. Yes, I have to make the pun---it's a wet dream.
What all this water stuff means. I don't know. Maybe the big one is really coming for sure. Maybe I ought to buy a boat.
Finally, a big congratulations (a congratulations made over and over again) to Adina, Kiff, and the new baby.