"So it is written. So shall it be done." Nothing like starting with a Cecil B. DeMille Ten Commandments cite, right? "What?" you might ask. "What is written?"
1) The stool will not start leaking until 5:25 Friday evening. Understand, a bachelor of science degree from a Liberal Arts college does NOT suggest plumbing expertise. It suggests that if I wanted to graduate in education, I had to take those science courses. Realize, I have enough credits to teach science in most states, but the only scientific fact I remember is acid used in experiments can and will burn through several layers of skin. Personal experience is an amazing educator. But I digress. Because I am cheap, I suggest to the love of my life we simply place towels down to soak up the clean water and call the plumber Monday. 3 days (and a multitude of heavy wet towels later), the plumber comes, discovers that somehow the nut connecting the water supply to the toilet is loose, takes one minute to tighten it, and leaves (and I KNOW smirked all the way back to the shop, thinking, "My god, what an idiot." )
2) If one thing happens on the weekend, be prepared for more. Saturday morning I awaken with a nagging feeling that something is wrong. There is an odd pressure on the upper left portion of my gum, and when I bite down, it suggests less than happiness. Should I not bite down and aggravate it, the pressure is obvious but acceptable. Should I, however, bite down, the pressure becomes pain and not only it, but my entire body is at less than happiness. Obviously, I have two options. One is NOT call the dentist (see note about my frugality above!). I can eat and hurt, or not eat, and not hurt as much. Okay. So the two choices thing was an out and out lie. Spend two days without eating? I don't think so! I was unaware until this weekend that Advil was a dessert option! I did manage to get into the dentist today, and am over step one of a root canal.
3) Ear plugs and nose plugs should be standard issue for all root canals. I was numb, but my other senses were acute, and to hear the drill grind away at my tooth and to smell the heat generated by that drill were both less than enticing events. I really like my dentist and adore his staff, they got me in when I was hurting and didn't hurt me to fix me, but the "sound and fury..." Not bad, huh, Shakespeare and DeMille in the same post!
Life, however, is good. The floor is dry. My abscess is gone, and I had Dairy Queen ice cream for lunch to take away the memory of sound and odor. All in all, it's a good day! Know you are loved!