8:30 a.m. Monday, February 3, 2014
So stumbling around in the dark and then being on your knees is a great way to spend a Monday morning. Before you say, Oh, on your knees Ms. Marsden…what’s that about? I assure you, it was nothing so invigorating or life affirming as a blow job. It was, in fact, a rather clumsy emptying the sump pump.
It all started about 6:50 a.m. as I was sitting there, stunned and only mildly awake, perusing Twitter and Facebook. Girl child’s morning show of Smallville was on and Clark was being good and Lex was being bad and I was paying no attention at all until this:
Lights out, carbon monoxide monitor lets out its murderous shriek, everything beeps. Silence.
Lights out. More shrieking from monitor, flickering, dimming, beeping. Silence.
On, waiver, on, waiver, dim.
We were sitting there in total fucking blackness because a) it was not even seven in the morning yet and b) there is a monsoon outside and that is not helping the darkness issue. Also c) our sump pump fills up faster than a Solo cup at a kegger.
So here comes the man stumbling down about three hours before he should have been. Girl child declares she is not going to school in this crap and goes to bed. And I am sitting there still stunned and trying to process all this shit before I’m even done a single cup of coffee.
So the bailing starts. The man takes the first turn. I hover, plead with him to let me do it, then back off because he’s making scary Sasquatch noises. There are flashlights and all kinds of cussing and the rain is just coming down and I am just like…what the bloody fuck is this happy horse shit!?
So then I take a turn. I, friends and neighbors, have NEVER bailed a sump pump in my life. Ever. Up until a month or two ago we had an emergency backup but the battery died and the money just was not there to replace it. It’s still not.
So we bail.
Here’s the shit you think when you’re in the pitch black basement bailing dirty water out of a rusty hole in the ground:
This water is disgusting.
Ugh! Some splashed on my face. Shut your mouth! Shut your mouth!
I am too old for this shit.
Do not drop the flashlight into the pit of despair.
I am far too old for this shit.
When does the boy wake up?
And my favorite that occurred about every seven seconds before I would once again realize the very reason I was bailing was because we had no power: This would go a lot faster if someone would turn that fucking light on.
So yeah. There’s no power as I type this (thank goodness my laptop has a full charge but alas no internet when the power is out), the monsoon continues and BG&E is walking around in the deluge sticking probes into the ground trying to find where the gas leak is. We have one in the neighborhood, they just can’t pinpoint it. So that has been super fun for the last few days constantly sniffing the house like a lunatic because we were told it’s safe as long as it remains outside. Yeah, no paranoia here, friends and neighbors! Sniff, sniff, sniff…*rolls eyes*
Good morning, Monday…you c*nt.
But this just in. LATE BREAKING GOOD NEWS: the boy is up! Seventeen, full of energy, good muscle tone. Happy Monday. Here’s a cup. Bail that bastard. Bail, bail, bail!