Does anyone remember this post? It was written after I had just moved to New Orleans and was getting settled in my new place. For those of you not interested in re-reading it, it had to do with how my dishwasher was my archenemy, refusing to work and when it did, it leaked water.
Well, I have spent the weekend getting settled in my own place (!!) and my parents are officially empty-nesters (again). I really don’t think this empty nest thing really registers on their radars since it would seem that every time the “last” kid moves out, another revolves around and moves back in. I’m pretty sure Joe is settled (although I’m also fairly certain that is what they thought about me and look how that turned out) and Ted is still in college, so there’s a pretty good chance he’ll make his way back home but not for another year or two.
Anyway, on Saturday night, I spent a good portion of the non-movable (read: too dark to physically move stuff anymore) hours unpacking. Mostly trying to get my kitchen set up. I pulled out dishes, which were wrapped in my towels and began loading the dishwasher and clothes washer, thinking a clean start would be in order before I load up my cabinets.
I turned the dishwasher on and then retreated to my bedroom to begin unloading there. I returned to the kitchen approximately 20 minutes later to find the Great Flood of 2010. Awesome. Why does this continue to happen to me when I move into a new place? Crimany.
After a few words which shouldn’t be repeated and, as my mother would say, certainly aren’t lady-like, I quickly pulled out more dishware in an effort to get at the towels in which they were wrapped, so as to clean up the water. I looked at the box sitting on top of the counter above the dishwasher and noticed it too had been soaked. As was my phone which was placed next to the box. Even more phenomenal. Lucky for me, my Verizon agent, Cole, convinced me to get the silicone phone cover which proved to literally be a phone-saving device. Crisis averted.
Or so I thought.
I pulled the Cascade from the wet counter top to return it to its home beneath the sink when water came flooding out of the there. Fast-forward through the next flood (no pun intended) of curse words. I began sopping that water up only to look to the other side of my sink and find water beginning to seep to that side where I had strategically placed my iHome so I could listen to music while unpacking. Sigh. Luckily that was saved too.
So more than anything, it was a giant pain in my backside to be cleaning up water in my kitchen when I could have spent that valuable time unpacking the kitchen so as to be able to attempt a meal in there in the near future (that pipedream has yet to happen and I have had the keys since Thursday).
More to come I’m sure. I haven’t called the cable guy yet but on the plus side, I do have jacks in each room so there’s one for the win column.
Hooray for independent living.