bunt sign

Monday, March 10, 2003

So that I don't dwell too much on what a stinky Monday this turned out to be, let me explore the ways I love my new kitchen sink. Mainly, it works. The faucet doesn't leak, the drain drains and the sprayer sprays. The shiny aluminum sparkles. Water gushes out with biblical swiftness and sureness.

So whenever I was overwhelmed by a crisis today (and there were many), I could walk the few steps into the kitchen, turn the handle and watch the magic. If only the Boss's edginess and the insurance company's incompetence (not to mention my own) could flow down the drain as briskly and efficiently, all my worries would evaporate.

Not to get off the subject of my wonderful sink, but the Boss rattled me this morning. Just as I was getting out the door for my run to the post office, he called and started whining about how he needed me to overnight a ten-dollar check to a public agency in Southern California to get plans for a job that doesn't bid until April 4, nearly a month from now.

He admitted he should have asked me to mail them a check last week, and we probably won't bid the job anyway, but he wants to get on this agency's good side, in case there are other, bigger projects for us to mess up down the road. So I had to run across town to FedEx on a Monday morning, because what if this and what if that. You can't trust the U.S. Postal Service, apparently. (If you're him, you don't trust anybody.)

It took a good five minutes of running water for me to get past this little annoyance.

Even the landlord remarked when he was here yesterday how quickly the hot water heated up. I haven't had reliable hot water in the kitchen for months, which puts a real damper on washing dishes. It's no wonder I've been eating so many prepared foods. But now, with running hot and cold water, I might dive back into my recipe book and start cooking again. That will mean eating healthier and feeling better, which could even lead to a better frame of mind for handling the little disasters that creep into my day.

Disasters, for example, like the fact that I came across a bill with a due date of tomorrow. Ordinarily, I wouldn't worry about being a little late paying a bill. People do that all the time and hardly anybody gets thrown in the poorhouse any more if a check is delivered a few days past the due date.

This was a different story, though. For one thing, it's my personal bill, on a credit card with a substantial balance and a zero percent interest rate. The fine print, which I didn't even have to read because I know this by heart, says that if payment of the minimum isn't received on time, I lose the zero percent rate. One day could cost me hundreds of dollars a month, and there seemed to be no way around it.

Oh, but there's always a way. I could have made another trip to FedEx to overnight my payment, but I noodled around on the bank website and found a toll-free number for phone payments. If I hadn't discovered the forgotten bill until tomorrow it would have been too late, but I could call today they would credit the payment on time. Most importantly, I wouldn't lose my highly favorable rate.

It was all automated and I had no trouble, assuming I punched in all the right numbers. Still, it was quite traumatic to come that close to the precipice. I really must find a way to make sure my bills get paid on time. This just happens too often.

I was breathing hard by the time this was over, but all I really needed was to go into the kitchen and let the cold water run over my neck. It would have been better if I hadn't bumped my head on the side of the basin, but we can't expect everything to work out perfectly.

I've been letting dirty dishes stack up, these last months, but now I think I might do a load every night. I don't have to do it that way. I live alone, and I have enough place settings to get through at least four days without running out of plates or forks. It does make an awfully high pile in the sink if you let things go that long, though. There's always the danger of it all crashing over the edge and down to the floor.

Besides, whenever I needed just one thing, like my favorite salad bowl, it would always be on the bottom. I took to rinsing the important things off and letting them drain. It's probably better to wash dishes in soapy hot water every time, and not just once a week, but it was such a drag to make the hot water work at all. Now it works all the time, and I can do large and small loads just by turning the handle and letting the sink fill up. Life is good again.


The oak at the entrance to my driveway is the only one showing this much green so far.

This afternoon I faxed a request for an insurance certificate to our agent. I even included a sample of the form that included the wording the state wanted on the certificate. Hours later, at the end of the day, I got a fax back from the agency. They couldn't find the sample certificate. Was I sure I'd sent it? It would really be a good idea if I could send them everything I mentioned in my cover letter. Then they would be happy to process my request.

Well sure, I'll send you another copy of the certificate, of course I will, why not? And then I believe I'll go rinse a few things out in the sink.

previousbunt signemailnext


I get nervous when Tim phones and his first words are, "You're going to hate me." He did that today and I was a little distracted, so all I said was, "Yeah."

"Wait a minute!" he said. "You don't even know what I'm going to ask yet!"

It turned out he'd lost a phone number. I found it and gave it to him and that was that. I'll have to wait until next time to hate him.

Recent recommendations can always be found on the links page.

One year ago: Segments of Sunday
"It's kind of creepy to list all the things I don't do, because it makes my life seem kind of pointless, as if the rest of the world was all busy making things happen while I'm sitting around the house watching a movie about making a movie, instead of making a movie myself, or even watching the actual movie."

Subscribe to the notify list to be advised when this site is updated.

California is a Garden of Eden,
A paradise to live in or see,
But believe it or not
You won't find it so hot
If you ain't got the do-re-mi.