Adventure!

I have discovered why people get married . . . or at least co-habituate.

Because nothing in my home is fixable by one person . . . and the jobs are so gross that two people have to be personally invested. And more invested than, say, "oh, I might have sex with this person".

Today I am working on my furnace. I am covered in water, something that I hope is silt but I think is ooze, and basic filth. It's like I fell in a sewer.

I went to India. I left my house for three weeks. When I came home my "whole house" humidifier, which I have never, ever used because it was disgusting and I just left it turned "off, was leaking. Dripping out of a hole that I did not know existed. And things were wet . . . my furnace was wet-ish and upon inspection sorta rusty (so maybe not a new problem), the floor was wet . . . so I got a bucket. And I waited. And the bucket filled and the floor stayed wet. Not a good sign.

So I looked up how much a new furnace and air conditioner are . . . which while maybe necessary at this point, is much more than I have at the moment. And the thought "My mother told me not to go to India" runs through my head. So I decide to monkey with the humidifier.

I take the top off. I did this yesterday. I even put some bleach into the murky water. An act that I am thankful for today. Today I decide to follow the instructions that are listed in the area you see when you take the top off. Today I decide to take the bottom off the unit. Taking the bottom off? A one person job.

And first I think about just using a shop vac to hose out all the water . . . and proceed to make a huge mess checking what is in the shop vac only to decide that it is too much trouble to clean the it order to make it ready to for water so that I don't make cement instead. So mess no. one.

So I decide to take the bottom tray off of the humidifier to inspect where the large amount of water is coming from. Could this all be condensation? I don't even think my furnace has a condensation pump . . . it just has a hose that inconveniently goes to the drain. I pull off the clips.

And water explodes everywhere. The water to the humidifier, which I was sure was turned off, because the value would not move . . . and quite frankly I had NOT turned it on . . . and this hasn't happened for five years . . . the water was turned on. So water is spraying everywhere and I drop the tray so the murky, yucky stuff goes everywhere. I figure out there is a float, which turns the water off . . . but I have to get the bottom tray back on, so I can contain the flow of water . . . so I can turn the water off . . .

And putting the tray back on? It is a two person job. One person to hold the tray in place and one person to put the clips (which are grooved) back into place. And everyone is at work. And I am covered in gross five year old water. I manage to get the tray back on after several tray droppings and I manage getting the water turned off. I then take the tray off again . . . and drop it AGAIN to make sure the water is really turned off.

As far as I can tell, the float must have been stuck? Anyhow, we will see if I fixed the problem. And I'm letting the shop vac mess dry now before I clean it up. And I'll just take another shower.

But it really would have been helpful if someone else was invested in the "oh my god I have to fix the leaky furnace" problem. Gotta go. I'm still sick and now wet.

Home

I am home . . . and while I don't think I can be very far from a toilet for a bit, that is much easier in the US.

After falling into an unconscious state for five hours, I gathered myself, put on some SHOES (only had damn sandals for three weeks . . . I'm such a dumb a$$), and drove to Taco Bell. Such a weird almost disconcerting feeling being the only car on the road at 10 pm. Where are all the people in case I fall in a hole? But there are no giant random holes here and the roads are well lit and I'm only going to Taco Bell.

I immediately convert my total into rupees, thinking that 1450 rupees is an outrageous price for dinner, especially without three courses. The women in the drive-thru are confused by my hands and think I have wicked tattoos. I have forgotten about the Mendi and then have to try to explain it . . . which is ironically much like the scenes from the last three weeks where everyone looked at me mystified. They finally get that the marks are temporary ("but they look so real!") and off I go again into the empty streets. The whole food run took maybe 10 minutes, instead of the usual three hours that has been my life for three weeks. And I didn't even have to ask for the bill.

I have to fall unconscious again. Maybe I will get some pictures up tomorrow.