My toilet blew up last night at 3AM. I drink about a liter of water at night before I go to bed. No, not all at once – I’m constantly drinking water for the two or three hours I’m home before I hit the sack. That means that I get up to pee in the middle of the night. No, there’s nothing wrong with my prostate, and no, I’m not an old man.
Whatever, who’s thinking on the screen here, you or me?
Anyway, probably about 15 minutes after I drained the lizard last night, my subconscious woke me up. You know that sound when there’s no spout between the gutter drain and the ground, and it’s raining real hard? That was coming from my kitchen. It’s been raining off and on here in NNJ for the past few days or so, so that’s what I figured it was – water from the gutters outside of my house or the big house hitting the ground. Unfortunately, I think my subconscious might be in effin Mensa too, because it woke my drowsy ass up and pointed out that the watter splatting all over the place was too close to my own person. And that there were no windows between the sound of water pouring from a height and my ears. So I got up.
No, my in-Mensa-subconscious wasn’t playing a fraternity house joke on me and trying to get me to wet the bed. Jeez, where is your mind today, dear reader?
My toilet was overflowing. And on top of that, the water wasn’t doing that nifty auto-shutoff thing that modern plumbing normally graces us with. The bathroom floor was covered in good old H20, and it was literally pouring through the ceiling into my kitchen. I’m very glad that my bathroom is directly over the kitchen. All the waterproof things in my house are all pretty much in the same place.
Sad to say, but I lost two good drop-ceiling tiles. At least the space between the floor of my bathroom and the ceiling of my kitchen is now sparkling clean, though. Well, maybe not sparkling, but I bet it’s been a long time since that little space saw a bath.
I was pretty much all the way asleep when this happened – again, at 3AM – which meant that in order to remedy the situation, I had to turn the lights on and wake all the way up. Apparently, my subconscious was all about alerting me to the situation, but it couldn’t figure out how to take the top off of the back of the toilet and jiggle the innards until the little plug fell back into place, thus enabling the fancy auto-shutoff gauge to work.
I don’t know about you, but waking up all at once like that means that those little adrenal glands sitting on my kidneys need to get to work. 3AM and I’ve got adrenalin pumping. Not a lot, but still not a good thing if I want to fall back asleep any time soon.
It was pretty obvious that I wasn’t going to fix the toilet and mop everything up at that late hour, so I went back to bed. It took maybe fifteen minutes, but I eventually fell back asleep.
I picked up a plunger on the way home from work and fixed the toilet (this is why I don’t use paper towels, btw). Then I spent about an hour cleaning up the ceiling tile debris and wiping down everything in the kitchen with soap and water. I’d been meaning to do that for a while anyway.
The thing that really blows my mind is that I was able to fall back asleep last night after being forcibly awakened. That’s not something I could have done a year or even a few months ago. I have to credit it to semi-regular meditation and yogic pranayama.
At the time, it was really the only thing to do to get my ass back to neverneverland, but looking back, I have to say that it was pretty cool that I was able to let go of the anxiety that accompanies two flooded rooms in one’s teeny-ass apartment (which consists of three rooms total). I knew I had to slow my racing thoughts and heartbeat, and I did it – without too much effort.
So that’s it. Me and the meat suit are cool for one more day. As long as it stays in line like this, I think I’ll keep it for a while longer. I have to say, though, that I’m glad that I only had to negotiate with my brain and heart – if it was my prostate, well, that might have been a different story.