(no subject)
Those of you who have been on my friendslist for years may remember those long ago days of Kitchengeddon, the epic tale of one family's quest to remodel a kitchen. For those of you who don't remember those fabled days of dining on leftover hors d'oevres from many holidays ago because OMG they have to turn off the power and it's all going to go to waste you guys, well you're in luck. We have at last set forth on a new epic journey, which may or may turn out to be: Bathpocalypse II.
Bathpocalypse I happened long before internet journals were a thing. There was an internet, that much I know because I had several friends who spent most of their free time trying to break into the Pentagon so that they could turn the entire free world into one giant MUD (that's Multi-User Dungeon for those of who don't speak fluent dorkish.) My parents insist that this event happened when I was in high school, but I am certain that it must have happened sooner, because all of my family members are still alive. Back in high school, my OCD was at it's peak of crazy and I also cared about looking cool, so I got up at 5am every day so that I could spend up to two and a half hours on my grooming process before going to school. My showers alone clocked in around 30+ minutes at a minimum and I was taking at least two, but sometimes as many as five showers per day. Try to imagine someone at that level of insane trying to share one functional bathroom with two parents and a sister. Now, if it ever turns out that, for the last 30 years or so, we've had the technology to replace dead people with clones who have been raised in a lab and then imprinted with their memories, then I will be happy to believe that Bathpocalypse I happened while I was in high school, at which time I probably killed and ate my entire family. Come to think of it, that would explain why I can't remember anything that happened in high school. I was probably too busy being heavily sedated and brainwashed to do any scrapbooking back then.
Kitchengeddon was a traumatic experience. It was supposed to take weeks and stretched out into months. We were told that the kitchen would be unusable for a couple of days, then they gutted it on day one and didn't put any of it back until the final day. We ended up living like Resident Evil was a historical record, only avoiding succumbing to the zombie virus due to the presence of a coffeemaker in every single bathroom because we can live without food, but not without coffee.
Luckily for me, I don't eat food so not having any food has minimal impact on my lifestyle. I had coffee for breakfast, more coffee for lunch and some coffee as a mid-afternoon snack. Dinner is the only time when I eat a meal, and even then I don't always have all that much interest in it. At the moment, I am horrendously cranky because I need to drop some weight before the new year and that means cutting back on the foo-foo coffee. I am in full on withdrawal and may not even be legally responsible for any of my actions at the moment. You know, I bet that the blood of the innocent is pretty low cal, I'm just saying. Where was I? Oh right, no worries about Kitchengeddon because who needs food when you can subsist by eating human souls?
Bathpocalypse is going to be a different story. Although my crazy has been reigned in somewhat, I still bathe twice a day. Yes. Really. If I can't get at a shower or a bathtub, I have been known to lock myself in the half-bath so that I can wash my hair in the sink and do a sponge bath before I go to bed. This is why I hate homestays when I'm singing. I do not have habits that are conducive to being around other humans, well, not living humans anyway. At one point, I was washing my hair in the kitchen sink because I could not sleep unless it was washed, so if the bathroom sink was not available, then it had to be the kitchen (crap, maybe Bathpocalypse I did happen when I was in high school. I am surrounded by clones, you guys. Break out the tinfoil hats, because we're gonna need them!) I've reined in my personal care routine to a more reasonable one hour, with more like 15-20 minutes in the shower rather than the former 45-60 minutes showers that really did happen, I'm sorry to say.
Today, we had a visit from some contractors for an estimate. They explained the importance of checking references and shopping around, which probably won't actually happen because we have enough trouble just getting to the "talking with a contractor" step. It's epic that we've come this far. From here, the next step will most likely be "Let's rip some walls down, WOOOO!!!" or possibly "Sheesh, it's only a bottomless sink hole. We can totally live with it. We'll work around it. We'll put a rug over it. It's fine." We'll see what happens...
The horror....
Bathpocalypse I happened long before internet journals were a thing. There was an internet, that much I know because I had several friends who spent most of their free time trying to break into the Pentagon so that they could turn the entire free world into one giant MUD (that's Multi-User Dungeon for those of who don't speak fluent dorkish.) My parents insist that this event happened when I was in high school, but I am certain that it must have happened sooner, because all of my family members are still alive. Back in high school, my OCD was at it's peak of crazy and I also cared about looking cool, so I got up at 5am every day so that I could spend up to two and a half hours on my grooming process before going to school. My showers alone clocked in around 30+ minutes at a minimum and I was taking at least two, but sometimes as many as five showers per day. Try to imagine someone at that level of insane trying to share one functional bathroom with two parents and a sister. Now, if it ever turns out that, for the last 30 years or so, we've had the technology to replace dead people with clones who have been raised in a lab and then imprinted with their memories, then I will be happy to believe that Bathpocalypse I happened while I was in high school, at which time I probably killed and ate my entire family. Come to think of it, that would explain why I can't remember anything that happened in high school. I was probably too busy being heavily sedated and brainwashed to do any scrapbooking back then.
Kitchengeddon was a traumatic experience. It was supposed to take weeks and stretched out into months. We were told that the kitchen would be unusable for a couple of days, then they gutted it on day one and didn't put any of it back until the final day. We ended up living like Resident Evil was a historical record, only avoiding succumbing to the zombie virus due to the presence of a coffeemaker in every single bathroom because we can live without food, but not without coffee.
Luckily for me, I don't eat food so not having any food has minimal impact on my lifestyle. I had coffee for breakfast, more coffee for lunch and some coffee as a mid-afternoon snack. Dinner is the only time when I eat a meal, and even then I don't always have all that much interest in it. At the moment, I am horrendously cranky because I need to drop some weight before the new year and that means cutting back on the foo-foo coffee. I am in full on withdrawal and may not even be legally responsible for any of my actions at the moment. You know, I bet that the blood of the innocent is pretty low cal, I'm just saying. Where was I? Oh right, no worries about Kitchengeddon because who needs food when you can subsist by eating human souls?
Bathpocalypse is going to be a different story. Although my crazy has been reigned in somewhat, I still bathe twice a day. Yes. Really. If I can't get at a shower or a bathtub, I have been known to lock myself in the half-bath so that I can wash my hair in the sink and do a sponge bath before I go to bed. This is why I hate homestays when I'm singing. I do not have habits that are conducive to being around other humans, well, not living humans anyway. At one point, I was washing my hair in the kitchen sink because I could not sleep unless it was washed, so if the bathroom sink was not available, then it had to be the kitchen (crap, maybe Bathpocalypse I did happen when I was in high school. I am surrounded by clones, you guys. Break out the tinfoil hats, because we're gonna need them!) I've reined in my personal care routine to a more reasonable one hour, with more like 15-20 minutes in the shower rather than the former 45-60 minutes showers that really did happen, I'm sorry to say.
Today, we had a visit from some contractors for an estimate. They explained the importance of checking references and shopping around, which probably won't actually happen because we have enough trouble just getting to the "talking with a contractor" step. It's epic that we've come this far. From here, the next step will most likely be "Let's rip some walls down, WOOOO!!!" or possibly "Sheesh, it's only a bottomless sink hole. We can totally live with it. We'll work around it. We'll put a rug over it. It's fine." We'll see what happens...
The horror....