I Survived Shit Mountain

Ok. So I know it has been about a week since my last post. I can't lie. I think my brain shut down. I kid you not. I've kind of been walking around like a zombie these past few days. Speaking of zombies...if you aren't watching The Walking Dead series on AMC, you suck.

Seriously though, dudes and dudettes, I have so much stuff to blog about. There are pages of notes and some random paper products stuffed into the notebooks where I jot down my awesomeness. If my kids would stand still long enough they'd probably have notes on them as well.  I promise I will get to all of it in due time.

Recently, we had a plumbing issue. The toilets wouldn't flush properly and when everything would finally go down the other would make gurgling sounds. When I'd plunge one, the other would have water seeping out from underneath. Murky ickiness was backing up into my shower. What's worse was the toilet paper and shit mountain that was building up in my backyard where it was all coming out of PVC pipe. It was gross. So gross, in fact, that even the dog didn't want to be anywhere near it and normally he is all about some nasty.

About a month ago, the genius that is this blogger had a serious brain fart. For some unknown reason, I deemed it accpetable to flush a tampon down the camode. Don't ask me what possessed me to do this. I never do that (anymore). I'm telling you. It has to be the lack of sex.

Anyway, I flush one of the period plugs and later I'm showering and I notice the basin filling up. After, I finish I decide to get my plumber on and plunge the hell out of it. Nothing could have prepared me for the horror that would begin to fill the shower. As I watched the water near the drain bubbled, the black muck started to gurgle out into the basin. All I could think was "Charlie Murphy! Darkness! The darkness is spreading!" It was so inky that I could no longer see the tile of the tub. Among the funk water was little floaters that once they leave your body, you have no wish to see ever again.

I called the landlord and when the plumber came out I was informed that the culprit was the lone tampon I had flushed. GREAT! I heard a whooshing noise in my head...it was the sound of me flushing money down the toilet.

So now, once again we are having plumbing issues. I SWEAR I didn't flush anything this time. This time the landlord stopped by and stood next to shitty TP mountain and declared that he believed it was roots in the plumbing causing this issue. He called a plumber and told me someone would be there in the morning. ALL DAMN DAY I WAITED! No plumber. Around four o'clock, I called the landlord to let him know I was still having potty issues. He called the plumber again and was told that he was still coming but that he was just backed up...no pun intended.

That night my husband and are discussing the difficulty of getting a plumber out to the house. My husband was concerned that there was some sort of plumbing epidemic and all of the city's plumbers were called out to battle the pipes. Apparently, no other plumbers are as skilled as our town's very own conquering heroes.

The next morning, I called the landlord again to inform him that a plumber still had not shown up. He ended up calling another plumber and said, "If this guy doesn't show, I'm going to come out there and snake it myself."  Now, I wish for the sake of blogging he would have. To give you a visual, my landlord reminds my husband and I of Bill Cosby. He is very energetic and expressive. He uses his entire body to tell you a story and the man is funny. He probably would have snaked the line and then offered everyone some Jell-o pudding pops.

Remember I mentioned roots in the plumbing? This is all too familar. Years ago, we lived in an older house that had the same issues occasionally. The worst was when I was hanging clothes in the backyard and noticed they didn't smell too hot. That's when I found out the sewage was backing up into the washing machine I doing laundry in. NICE!


Back to the present...

The plumber finally showed up. It was the same guy as last time. The first thing he says to me is "You din't go flushin no feminim hygeine pro-ducts down the drain, did yer?" Apparently, this guy knows too much. I may have to have him assassinated or something. In the very least, send him a christmas card.

You know, Mr. Fix-it was in and out in less then 15 minutes! I waiting over 36 hours for him to bolt through here like nothing was ever wrong. That was looooongest 36 hours of my life...well except for the bus trip. Seriously, I had to keep convincing myself during that time that I did NOT need to go to the restroom.

Now can you understand why my brain turned into oatmeal this week? This isn't even all of it. I'll try to be back tomorrow to fill you in on the rest of lunacy that seems tobe my life. In the meantime, don't flush tampons down the toilet...even though the specifically say FLUSHABLE and BIODEGRADABLE. It's all a lie people!