It's been quite the Monday. The tub has ceased to drain properly and when I run water in the bathroom sink, it backs up into the tub, so the clog is somewhere beyond that intersection. I need to move stuff in the basement so the plumber can get to that section of pipes. There's also a small leak where the tub meets the drain. AND, I can't actually have a plumber out until maybe Friday afternoon because we're so busy, I'm the only one in the office for a good portion of this week.
But, remembering this is the year of gratitude, I can wash up in the kitchen sink. I'll wash my hair at night instead of in the morning and I can wash sections of body parts at night too and wash other sections in the morning. I was remembering my childhood last night, as I plotted all this out. We had a tub. We did not have a shower. Gram had a shower and it was such a treat to go visit and take a shower at her house. What a nifty idea that was.
We took a bath once a week, more in the summer if our feet were really dirty or if mom looked behind our ears and you could grow a garden there. This idea of a daily shower or bath was rather foreign to us. We washed faces, hands, arms daily. I washed my hair twice a week. We didn't think this was abnormal at all. Even now, if I am not going anywhere over a weekend and have no prospects of being near people, I may not take a shower all weekend, pulling my hair up into a pony tail. This concept of a daily bath or shower is truly American and isn't needed unless you do hard physical work or exercise and work up a heavy sweat.
I kind of feel like karma is getting me back for thinking, after paying bills on Saturday and moving money into my savings account, that I was doing rather well for the end of the year. I can pay a plumber, which is wonderful, but there goes my feeling flush in the savings department.
So, I guess I can be forgiven for thinking all is right with the world, except for my plumbing. I have to go to the post office and start the mailing so I was loading up my lunch and my bag of presents. I need to remember that these girls won't go outside. They weren't raised outside. It's really a foreign, scary place for them. (Plus, today is rainy.) I can leave the back door open while I make sure I have everything. Force of habit is to close the door as you're leaving to make sure a cat doesn't get out and that's what I did. I got to the car, looked around for my purse and realized it was sitting on the kitchen counter.
Pam has said, repeatedly, that she's just 5 minutes away and all I have to do is call her and she'll come over and unlock my front door. Then I don't have to crawl in through the office window. I looked back at the house. Call her. My phone is in my purse. I have the office windows covered with window kits. Plus, Pam is not in Wheaton. He's in Pennsylvania, bonding with her new grandson. That would be a bit of a wait for her to unlock the front door. Wait! After the last time I did this, I could have sworn I put a key in the center well of the Jeep. I dived into the well. Maps, hand sanitizer, flashlight, spare tire lock, sunscreen, KEY!
The next step was remembering which door this goes to. I finally decided I couldn't be smart enough to make it the back door so I trotted around to the front of the house. You guessed it. It was the back door key. Oh well. I retrieved my purse and happened to notice that I had not grabbed the keys off the key holder in the kitchen. I would have gotten out to the car and had to go back inside. Probably fitting for a Monday.
So, back in the center well went the key. Will I remember the next time I lock myself out? Probably not and I'll have that panic start to settle in when I try to remember if I did or did not put a key in the car. But, finally, after years of climbing in the office window, I did something smart and it paid off. Huzzah for me.
Beverage: Wild Berry tea