Cursed by water
Feb. 9th, 2004 02:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
enteleinWhen I first moved into the apartment, it had been lovingly seen to with paintbrushes and soothing colors and ripping up of carpet pieces and sweeping and lots of buckets of water and Murphy's Oil Soap. The peace felt in that place was palpable and healing, you could say. Quiet, even though just off of a medium-sized cross street. Exciting, since I was living on my own for the first time since the pseudo-independence I had in college with an apartment, and then later, a single room in a co-ed dorm.
Despite the sweet rent and plenty of room in which to put all my books and games and boxes of journals, there's been a curse of water and heat upon this place. I've had numerous problems with the heat and the gas used to supply the heat. That boiler's been finicky, rigged funny, and all-around a financial fucking leech on me in the last year.
But, that finally got paid off, put under some modicum of control, and resolved with the landlords to a mostly mutual satisfaction. I've paid off the tail ends of the gas bills stretching out from the depths of December 2002, and I am trying not to wince too much at the numbers marching across my statements for Winter 2004.
The hot water tap went icy cold Saturday evening, in the midst of a frenzy of cleaning and mopping and hand-washing unmentionables. Just like that, hot, to lukewarm, and then a sort of pop right into downright chilled. I remember my brow furrowing, and I remember reaching out to the tap to twist it off, immediately going into denial mode, immediately ignoring what could be a huge problem.
It was then that I heard the noise, and tossed the sound around in my head as I moved around the apartment cleaning things up - car tires snicking along wet pavement, it sounded like - except it was close by, and all around. I dashed out into the stairwell, and heard what sounded like a waterfall coming through the basement door.
Another dash down the scary back stairs to the other basement door confirmed what I thought had happened: the hot water heater died, dramatically as hot water heaters do. It was spilling its guts almost directly into the basement drainage, and the boilder for my heat was still blessedly intact.
So, no hot water, but that should be rectified by tomorrow. I wonder if perhaps there is some sort of urban water god I can make a cat sacrifice to, in order to keep this crap from happening. The karma around this place is getting thick, but honestly, it's keeping me on my toes more than it's getting me down.
More and more, I am recognizing what I do have, as opposed to lamenting the things that need fixing, or the things I want, and although I don't want to remain static in that appreciation, it's a good place to be. Until I get hot water again, at the very least.
For now, it's soup pots and small metal pitchers for bathing, and using as many dishes as possible, along with the healthiest take-out I can find for the next day or two.
Despite the sweet rent and plenty of room in which to put all my books and games and boxes of journals, there's been a curse of water and heat upon this place. I've had numerous problems with the heat and the gas used to supply the heat. That boiler's been finicky, rigged funny, and all-around a financial fucking leech on me in the last year.
But, that finally got paid off, put under some modicum of control, and resolved with the landlords to a mostly mutual satisfaction. I've paid off the tail ends of the gas bills stretching out from the depths of December 2002, and I am trying not to wince too much at the numbers marching across my statements for Winter 2004.
The hot water tap went icy cold Saturday evening, in the midst of a frenzy of cleaning and mopping and hand-washing unmentionables. Just like that, hot, to lukewarm, and then a sort of pop right into downright chilled. I remember my brow furrowing, and I remember reaching out to the tap to twist it off, immediately going into denial mode, immediately ignoring what could be a huge problem.
It was then that I heard the noise, and tossed the sound around in my head as I moved around the apartment cleaning things up - car tires snicking along wet pavement, it sounded like - except it was close by, and all around. I dashed out into the stairwell, and heard what sounded like a waterfall coming through the basement door.
Another dash down the scary back stairs to the other basement door confirmed what I thought had happened: the hot water heater died, dramatically as hot water heaters do. It was spilling its guts almost directly into the basement drainage, and the boilder for my heat was still blessedly intact.
So, no hot water, but that should be rectified by tomorrow. I wonder if perhaps there is some sort of urban water god I can make a cat sacrifice to, in order to keep this crap from happening. The karma around this place is getting thick, but honestly, it's keeping me on my toes more than it's getting me down.
More and more, I am recognizing what I do have, as opposed to lamenting the things that need fixing, or the things I want, and although I don't want to remain static in that appreciation, it's a good place to be. Until I get hot water again, at the very least.
For now, it's soup pots and small metal pitchers for bathing, and using as many dishes as possible, along with the healthiest take-out I can find for the next day or two.
