Friday, December 27, 2019
We're writing this on the day after Christmas. A day celebrated by many as its very own holiday called "Boxing Day."
We weren't really quite sure what "boxing" had to do with anything until, about an hour ago, we got a roundhouse punch in the face. What fun!
Granted, it was only a metaphorical punch - our water heater decided to not only die, but to spew 50 gallons of hot water, much like a mother Hippo just before giving birth. Fortunately, our water heater lives in the garage rather than in the attic, so at least we're not dealing with collapsing ceilings or other property damage.
Remarkably, we found a plumber willing to come out on the day after Christmas and are currently awaiting his arrival. The big question will then become how badly will we get gouged for Emergency Holiday Service?
Not that we have a lot of options; living in Texas, we were mowing/mulching leaves today and are covered with a visible layer of chopped oak leaves and sweat (which, by the way, is an actual vegan salad recipe). "No shower" is not an option, nor is an "ice cold shower" because, um, shrinkage.
Anyway, with this drama on our plate we're not really able to write anything particularly incisive today. But then, who the heck really gets anything done in the days immediately following Christmas?
Well, other than plumbers who can probably earn half their year's pay on those days...
Posted by Stilton Jarlsberg at 12:01 AM