Sunday, January 27, 2013

Lessons learned (sort of)

I learned two lessons in a three-day period. Except I already had "learned" those lessons before; I just chose to ignore conventional wisdom. Or, to put it more bluntly, I did two stupid things.

First stupid thing
On Thursday morning, I had a dentist appointment, followed very closely by a gynecologist's appointment. Like the majority of women, getting on the scale is one of the most dreaded parts of the appointment (I will let you figure out which part is the most dreaded). About four years ago, I had gained about five or six pounds over a several-month period. Within a month of getting laid off, I had managed to drop that weight. Other than an additional, stress-induced weight loss, and a couple of gained-back pounds, it seemed as if the original five pounds might be gone to stay. Except something happened this past fall during which time I ate more than I normally did. Having seconds became the norm. Working and volunteering in an elementary school do not help. And for the love of Pete, we still have Halloween candy. So most of those lost pounds returned.

The day of those two appointments, I had a tiny breakfast, somehow thinking I could undo those gained pounds in a few hours of little eating. By the time I had finished my doc appointment, I was starving. Target was only a couple of minutes away, and I needed a few things, so I made a beeline for the cafe, and bought a bag of popcorn. Which I promptly managed to spill about 1/4 on the floor, and which I also swept up with a broom. I proceeded to walk around the store and pick up various items all the while eating handfuls of popcorn. As I was doing this, I thought it was probably a bad idea, because of the flu going around, people not washing their hands after using the restroom, etc. But I was just so hungry, so I kept munching while continuing to touch about 38 more things.

Fast-forward to Thursday evening, and my stomach felt weird. I went to bed, hoping the feeling would go away, but at around 11:30, I had this feeling that I had not felt in about 12 years. I won't gross you with all the details, but let's just say for the next five or so hours, I did not know whether to sit down or hunch over. At one point, I was begging God for mercy (something I probably had not done since some rough days of drinking in my 20s). The next morning, hubby told me that during my first bout, I managed to creep into the bathroom and close the door without making much noise; the only reason he woke up was because the dog started barking at the horrific sounds I was making. :-)

I am pretty sure we can all guess what the moral of that story is (and be sure to include touching the Target broom handle in the moral). But, hey, I did drop a few pounds!

Second stupid thing
When I woke up yesterday morning, feeling pretty normal, thankfully, I heard a dripping sound in my bedroom. My first thought was to panic, but then I remembered I had heard a similar sound after another snowfall and subsequent warm-up a month or so ago, and it ended up that icicles were dripping onto the window ledge (is that the right word?) outside my bedroom window. Hubby put a towel out there, and the dripping sound went away, and I forgot all about it until yesterday. Once that memory came back, I figured it was that same issue, so I decided not to worry about it, and I got up a few minutes later, not even bothering to look at the window. Based on the title of this paragraph, you might be able to guess where this is going.

About five hours later, I came back to the bedroom and heard the sound again. I went over to the window, which is mostly hidden by a dresser and mirror above, and discovered that the water was dripping from above the window on the inside. There was a puddle of water on the window ledge and on the carpet below. Even worse, there was a huge bulge in the wall, where all the water was getting trapped. I let out a mild curse word, and hubby came up to investigate. We proceeded to gather towels, and then hubby "popped" the water pocket. He then set up some plastic sheet contraption that allowed the dripping water to fall into a bucket, not the window ledge or floor. A few hours later, the dripping water changed directions and was outside causing icicles on the screen.

Here are two photos of the hub's water-catching contraption. Pretty, isn't it?


I think the moral of this story is pretty obvious too, although maybe I can tell myself if I had checked it out earlier it would not have made that much of a difference. Except I am pretty sure it made a ton of difference.

We really need new gutters and a roof. I am pretty sure I solicited roofing company recommendations a few years ago, but we never moved forward; last year we had to replace our furnace and AC. This year, there will be no tax refund to pay for improvements/upkeep, but I am not sure how much longer we can go without these things. After all, when we bought the house 11 years ago, the home inspector said we should replace the roof in a few years.

Here's hoping I don't "learn" anymore lessons like these for awhile. :-)

3 comments:

bluzdude said...

Ouch. Stories like that make me want to stay in this apartment forever.

Facie said...

"Seriously!" says the girl who spent about 15 minutes listening to water dripping OUTSIDE her window, the sound of which can be likened to rapid gun fire it was so loud. At about 3:30 a.m., I could not longer take it, so I took the ripped fitted sheet I just took off last night (thank you, dog) and tried to strategically place it (i.e., throw it across multiple times before success) on the window ledge. This was after a towel fell to the patio below.

Here's hoping I can fall back asleep and not hear that sound anymore, inside or out.

chris h said...

Yuck and double yuck. Illness and home repairs rank right up there with gynie appointments!