Sunday the coffeepot was broken. My father-in-law had stayed over Saturday night, and left to his own devices Sunday early in the morning, he had somehow ripped the entire top off of the device.
Coffee could be made but it had grounds in it. I added “Get new coffeepot” to my to-do list.
Tuesday there was talk of a hurricane, and for us a lot of rain. We have been around this torture-chamber they call Connecticut, long enough to know, that when the forecast shows little graphics of sideways rain – chances are we are totally screwed.
In particular, our basement has been known to have a flood or two, so we are usually on high alert when there are big rainstorms. There is a little pit in the basement that sometimes fills with water, (we call it the “pit of doom”) and a sump pump chugs the water out when water comes in.
At 4 AM Tuesday, Mr. Gaga woke up to the sound of torrential downpours and when downstairs to check out the precarious situation. The sump pump was blown.
When the rain woke me around 6:30, I wandered downstairs to find that Mr. Gaga had transformed into a “human sump pump.” He was using the wet-vac to suck up the water as it filled up the “pit of doom” and then dumping it out in the sink.
Over and over again, ultimately until an emergency worker could come replace the pump. It was extremely muggy and musty which didn’t help matters.
Mr. Gaga was dripping with sweat, shirtless and late for work.
There wasn’t much I could do to help except poor coffee filled with grounds for him.
Finally the rain tapered off and someone installed a new pump.
I had a bunch of soaking wet towels that we had used to dry up the floor, plus my regular mountain of dirty clothes to contend with. When I threw my first load of clean wet towels into the dryer, the machine started to smoke and make weird noises. It wasn’t drying the clothes or turning. It was broken.
I stared at the pile of clothing and could already smell the mold and mildew that would shortly start to grow.
The sump pump situation would cost a couple thousand dollars, and I needed a new coffeepot and now a dryer.
This was shaping up to be an annoying and expensive week.
I peeled out and headed to Sears to buy a dryer. Between the basement status, soccer and baseball, there was a very small window of time that I could live without a dryer. Meanwhile, it was my day off and I had a lot more important things planned for that day!
My plans were foiled and I headed into Sears disgruntled.
I stormed over to the dryer section. I saw that they ranged from $900 to $400.
“I just want dry clothes, sir.” I demanded of a nearby Sears employee, “I need a dryer that will dry clothes and that can be delivered tomorrow.”
“No dude. Just get me the cheapest dryer you have and make sure it can be drying my clothes by tomorrow.” I cut him off.
We quickly established that there was a Whirlpool dryer for $400. “I’ll take it.”
“Ok, ma’am,” and he started to drone on about Whirlpool and the features of this dryer compared to others.
“Ok – whatever,” I cut him off.
He started to type up my order.
“So how long will this machine last?” I asked impatiently.
“Hmmm…ok well I am going to take shin guards and peep cups and a million towels and throw them into the dryer in the morning and then I am going to walk away..How does that sound?”
“What do you think?” I asked sarcastically.
He laughed and started my order. I stood there while he processed my order for what seemed like an hour. I wandered the aisles for a minute and quickly grabbed a coffeepot.
“Can you add this too…my life is horrible.” I asked shoving the coffeepot box in front of him.
Finally I left with my coffeepot in tow, with the promise of a new dryer the next day arriving between 9-12. I had to just pray that it came on the early side because I was supposed to go to work.
The next morning, I felt better about my life. Even though I was out thousands of dollars, at least things would be working.
I went to go make coffee in my new pot.
How am I supposed to live like this!!!
I was trapped home waiting for my dryer.
The kids went off to school and I wandered around the house grumpily. I was wearing a bra and wife-beater, but I threw on another wife beater so to not be too scantily clad when the dryer arrived. My hair was in a bun and I had no makeup on. I was too tired from not having caffeine to get up the energy to get dressed properly.
I decided to make dinner – since I would be going to work late and coming home late. I poured oil in some pans and started frying up pork cutlets. The doorbell rang. Excitedly, I answered the door expecting my dryer.
I had forgotten that I had scheduled a chimney cleaning weeks ago.
“We are here to clean your chimney.” a man said at the door.
“Ugh – ok – but I don’t even know why I scheduled this…is it really necessary?” I answered with disgust.
He started droning on about the importance of chimney cleaning and basically told me the whole house would be burnt to a crisp if I didn’t let him in.
“Fine – apparently this is Mary Poppins – I don’t even know what you are talking about – just do it I guess,” I said as I let him in and went back to making dinner.
After about a half an hour, Burt the chimney sweep returned. “Um..ma’am, I just want to speak to you about a few things.” I had taken a break to read a magazine while dinner was cooking. Now this guy was interrupting a great US Weekly article to talk to me about some chimney bullshit. I was in no mood.
“I went onto your roof and you have a big problem….he started to talk about chimneys and flues and I think he might have even said “supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” ……but I wasn’t at all interested in anything he was saying….”
I took some pictures to show you….You have a huge hole in your chimney”
I had to schmooze this guy as he started writing up an estimate that would surely be thousands. I was really regretting my appearance and my choice of tank-top apparel.
The original estimate was $650. I tried to flirt and offered him some cutlets….in the end he agreed to do it for $500.
I said I would call him later and shut the door behind him, anxiously awaiting my dryer.
I texted Mr. Gaga to give him an update on yet another household expense.
Finally the doorbell rang again. A man wearing a t-shirt that was supposed to look like a tuxedo was on my front steps. There was a big truck that said something like “We love tuxedos and dryers” on it in my driveway.
“I am here with your dryer.” he said matter-of-factly.
“But why isn’t it a Sears truck? I didn’t order the dryer from “We love Tuxedos and Dryers” – Do you have identification?” I asked nervously.
“No.” he answered impatiently, “Do you want the dryer?”
I needed that fucking dryer.
“But what if you kill me?” I asked him point-blank.
He wasn’t amused.
“Do you want to reschedule the delivery?” he asked starting to walk back to the truck.
“NO!!! I need to dry towels!!!” I shrieked.
Earlier I had tried to open the hatch to the basement and I couldn’t get the latch open. This tuxedoed man was going to have to come into the basement and open it for me in order to get the old dryer out and the new one in.
“At least if he kills me – they will say on the news that I was simply trying to have dry non-moldy clothes for my family,” I thought staring at his tuxedo shirt.
“Ok – come in.” I gambled. I was at the end of my rope.
As I stood behind him in the basement, I realized things could get pretty dicey so I snapped some pics for evidence before my murder.
And then later when he asked me to sign for the new dryer – I snapped a quick pic of his shirt instead of signing.
“Ma’am what are you doing?” he asked.
“Nothing! I hit a button my phone!” I said as to not anger this tuxedo wearing maniac.
Finally all of the transactions were complete.
I went to work and when I came home I just wanted to relax and calm down and not have to think or worry about all of the pressures of home ownership.
“Remember when I said that I only want to drink on the weekends?” I asked Mr. Gaga when he came home.
“Yeah – I changed my mind.”
This is a new week and I have coffee, a coffeepot, a dryer, a dry basement and a chimney that hasn’t exploded or caught fire yet….
Life is good.
PLEASE CLICK THE LINK BELOW TO VOTE FOR ME AS THE BEST HOUSEKEEPER IN AMERICA – I MEAN BEST MOM- OR BEST WIFE – OR FUNNIEST – OR ALL OF THE ABOVE;) XO, LADY GOO GOO GAGA