Wanna talk about COVID-19 stress? Well… COVID-19 stress that doesn’t actually involve any COVID-19?
Two. Not one, two. Two plumbers in the house. Not even at the same time.
We knew our plumbing needed looking to. It rained in the cellar on Saturday and that’s… what’s the word… bad. So an appointment was made for today to have the kitchen sink and the dishwasher looked at, as well as to see if there was any damage to the floor that we would need to take care of.
Our appointment window was between 8:00 am and noon. The first guy showed up reasonably early but he wasn’t The Plumber, he was the manager. His deal was sewer issues so he was just checking in. Personally, given the global pandemic and the 98,000 deaths in the US alone, I would have done this over the phone. Whatever. He offered to take a look at the floor from the cellar perspective and said he thought it was okay. No structural issues, no health issues. He gave his card in case we want to fix the tiled floor down stairs, and said he’d check on the actual plumber to get an estimate of his arrival.
The actual plumber arrived a little before noon. He thought he knew what our problem was as soon as I started describing it to him. He also looked around down cellar and the more we talked the more he was sure we just had a clog in the pipe somewhere. Okay. Our sink didn’t give easy access to allow him to run a snake so he had to make some adjustments. Once that was all set he was able to snake out the drain and by 1:30 or so it was all over. At least I hope it was. We have a six month guarantee, but I hope we never have to use it.
And all was right with the kitchen again. Except…
Except that I spent some time with two strangers today. We were all wearing masks, and they were wearing gloves. Jen never came near either of them but she was wearing a mask too. They put the paperwork down on the counter, walked away, then I signed with my own pen, walked away, and they picked it up. All sorts of safe stuff like that. My gut instinct was to shake people’s hands, but I absolutely did not. I was able to suppress my lifelong learned behavior. Good boy.
So nothing bad happened, everyone followed the rules, and still I am super nervous. We made sure to do this on a day when Harry and his autoimmune diseases wasn’t in the house. I will continue the paranoia by quarantining myself for two weeks. No hugs for the kids for this guy. Ugh.
Two weeks from today means my self imposed sort of exile ends on June 9th… just in time to start again when the new dishwasher is delivered on June 16th.
Yippee. Can this be over now? Vaccine, please?