Friday evening around 9:30, I heard a hissss emanating from the playpen-sized room where my water heater is stored. I looked in to find water leaking (not gas, praise Mighty Isis). I called a 24-hour plumber for assistance, and was told to turn off the water and the gas, and he would call back Saturday morning with a price for a weekend visit and another price for Monday if I wanted to wait. Of course, there was no return call.
All Easter weekend, no hot water. Only cold water. Not room temperature, but COLD, not unlike the shoulders of some women I have known.
Monday morning, I called another plumber who, true to his word, arrived on time and finished the job in two hours. I wish the story of my plumbing woes ended there.
I was awakened just after 4 am this morning by the sound of water gushing and spilling on the loo floor. The float inside the toilet tank had snapped off the plastic rod (years of stress, I imagine, so I'm next), and the water began to rise and overflow. I tried to turn off the water, but of course the knob wouldn't budge.
I could hear gallons of water laughing at me. Do you know the sound? The gurgling and the giggling? Probably not. Unless you're a drowning victim.
The water started to creep steadily into the bedroom and, unknown to me at the time, over the edges of the linoleum (where normally one would find 1/4 round or tile, but years ago the 'shroom-enhanced carpenters apparently got a call from "the man with the plan" and had to leave early; last seen flying over Iceland). Wrapping a towel around the shutoff valve and employing a bit of the old heave-ho, I successfully got the water stopped and threw every available towel onto the floor. When the water was mopped up I carried the nasty towels downstairs to the laundry room... and yes, that's when I heard the staccato sound of water dripping in the library.
I pushed a bookcase aside and put a dry towel and the laundry basket on the floor to catch any falling detritus. The ceiling may be on the floor by the time I get home today.
Can you imagine the damage if I had been at the office when this happened? Hours and hours of gallons and gallons, surging down the walls...
Why do the gods hate me so?
The Rat be damned. 2008 is surely the Year of the Hoodoo.
Tune in tomorrow for A Tree Falls on the House.
UPDATE: The ceiling did not fall in, and the dripping seems to have subsided. However, part of the ceiling will need to be replaced, and henceforth this toilet will only be used as a prop, a place to read or play draughts.
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