I know you don't really care but...

I'm ready to fucking scream right now.

My kitchen and bathroom sink are both clogged, so I have to brush my teeth and do my dishes in the bathtub.  I tried Drano, that didn't work, and getting the super to fix it seems to be a lost cause, he's not here on the weekends anyway.  I went to the hardware store today and asked the guy to sell me a sewer snake so I could try to fix it myself and he said oh no, you don't need that, just use a wire hanger, that'll work fine.  So I tried shoving a wire hanger down there and it didn't work.  At all.  Cocksucker.

So I went to the other hardware store and that guy wouldn't sell me a snake either.  I don't know what the fucking problem is.  Apparently, something about me just screams out, THIS GIRL CANNOT BE TRUSTED WITH BASIC PLUMBING TOOLS, NOT EVEN A SIMPLE DRAIN SNAKE.  Well, fuck you guys, is all I have to say about that.

Instead of a snake, the guy at the other hardware store sold me some industrial strength drain cleaner:

    

    


It smells like death, and the back of the bottle is covered with skull and crossbones and terribly frightening warnings in three different languages, so I figure it will probably work, although I don't know how because when I poured it down the drain it just filled the sink up, so now my sinks are both filled with nasty, foul-smelling, greenish-colored water.

But whatever, OK, fine, I'll wait two hours like the guy at the hardware store said to do, then I'll flush it with hot water and if that doesn't work, I'll just go back to the hardware store tomorrow and smack the guy in the face.  In the meantime, I'll just take a long, hot bath.  Won't that be nice?  Won't that be relaxing?

I've got one of those old bathtubs, the kind with two faucets, one for the shower nozzle and one to fill the tub.  Nice long tub, I've been looking forward to taking a bath in it ever since I moved in.  So I broke out some candles and lavender bath beads and started to fill the tub.

With nasty, sludgy, rusty, brick-red water.

I'm not even going to speculate on how long it's been since that faucet has been turned on.  Those pipes have probably been rusting for ten fucking years.  I let it run for fifteen minutes, full blast.  The water was still brick-red.  Moth-er-fuck-er.

I'm really going to fucking scream.

I know, I know.  You're thinking, "Uh, it's Saturday night in New York City.  Don't you have something better to do than sit home and worry about your clogged drains?"

No, I don't.  Not tonight.  Tonight, I want to take a hot bath with my vanilla candles and lavender bath beads, and then I want to brush my teeth in the bathroom sink, then I would like to eat some ice cream and wash the dish out in my kitchen sink.  Is that too much to ask?  Is it really?

It seems so.  Tonight, at least.

Can someone please send me a plumber?

*author's note*  Sorry to bore you with all that, but I had to rant to someone, and Sweetheart is still at work and all the rest of my friends have lives apparently, because no one would answer the phone except my ex-boyfriend from NINE YEARS AGO, and he was only home because his daughter was having a slumber party and he was supervising.  Do you know what he had to say?  "Wow, that sucks.  You should call a plumber.  Hey, did I tell you about the trip me and Lisa just went on?"

Fuck you, K.  Fuck you and your goddamned vacation.  We're talking about ME here, remember?

I hate my life right now.