I just realized that I started a post way back in December that I never put on the blog. So I just added it. It's a rather incomplete post. Such is life.
Riddle me this: where did all this crap come from? No, really. Where? Despite my repeated threats to a: burn the storage unit down (vetoed because I look quite wretched in prison orange) or b: open it up and sell everything for whatever someone is willing to pay, all of my possessions are now in the "new" house.
Currently, my preferred method of dealing with Mt. Boxes is to ignore them. Since they are in my garage, right next to the car, this is more impressive than it sounds. I'm a regular artist in the Art of Denial.
On to other topics, because it's hard to deny the fortress of cardboard if I keep talking about it.....
MotH has turned into the Septic Tank Nazi. Oh, I know you're saying to yourself "I hate how everyone throws around the word 'Nazi' to describe an overbearing/tyrannical person". Trust me, I feel you. But here me out (and if you are still offended, take it out on Seinfield. He mainstreamed the word when he introduced us to the Soup Nazi.).
First, a little background. The house we bought failed it's septic inspection. This created a bit of a problem (10 DAYS BEFORE CLOSING), but we ended up with a new, fancy, box-that-holds-our-poop.
Anyway, MotH has been known, in the past, to be a little passionate about things. That is to say that he gets a wee obsessed when he's on a mission.
His mission: to reduce the flow of water into our septic to let the laterals/drainfield (you can figure out what that means) "heal".
I'll sum it up this way: if it's yellow, let it mellow. If it's brown, flush it down. I. Am. So. Not. Kidding. Thankfully we will soon own new, low-volume toilets and we can flush at will.
That is only ONE example of his septic tyranny. I rest my case.
There's more, but I'm tired and it will have to wait.
3 years ago