Toilets. Triggering.
Yes. Yes, they are.
A non-working toilet - specifically a non-working toilet in my own abode - is, for unpleasant reasons completely unnecessary to unload on you, Gentle Reader, triggering to me. It goes back a long way; back more than 20 years, and I am unable to break myself of being triggered.
Tonight, our toilet became ... temporarily unusable. Calling the plumbers was initially a case of scheduling one for Monday. Then, For Reasons, we had to switch to an emergency call tonight. Was it expensive? Yes. Did I like paying a three-digit bill that was upwards of 400? Christ, no.
Was it worth it to ensure I didn't become a mental, emotional, or (god help me) a physical mess, and to prevent Bob from having to deal with me?
Sadly, yes.
I fucking hate toilet problems. With the red hot fury of a thousand blazing suns.
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