Washed Away (day 12)

Okay – tonight’s blog entry is early, because I’m using this time to calm down before I go face my next mole hill/mountain. Tonight was the day for me to catch up on unfinished laundry.  We were traveling to see family on Sunday, when we typically do most of our laundry.  This morning, before leaving for work, I was able to put a load in to wash – to get a jump-start on this evening’s “to do” list.  When we got home after work and school and evening activities, I started the laundry drudgery again.  First load in the dryer, next load in the washer, then sit down to dinner and relax while I talked to my son about his day.  Ahhhhh……this is nice.

I should have known that wouldn’t last.  How have I not learned yet?

Once we finished dinner it was back to the basement to continue the feudalism of laundry.  I was surprised to be greeted by the sound of water.  Running water.  Rushing water.  Perhaps dinner had not lasted as long as I thought.  Perhaps the water pressure was decreased too much when I did dishes and the wash cycle took longer than expected.  PERHAPS MY BASEMENT IS FULL OF WATER!!!!  Ugh!

The process begins: to determine from where the water comes.  After wading through the pools now forming in my basement, I turned off the washing machine.  Starting the elimination process, I find:

• the discharge hose is still aimed into the sink
• the connection in the middle of the discharge hose seems tight (hard to tell if it’s failed…everything is wet now!)
• after crawling over the top of the washer to look behind it, I discover my flashlight in the basement is dead
• once I retrieve a new flashlight, I find that the intake connections appear to be dry

Hmmmm……this must mean the leak is coming from inside the washer (cue dramatic music for effect).  This is NOT what I wanted to find.  I wanted an easily reachable hose to be loose, easily tightened and fixed.  I stand in the midst of the water.  I look at the yet-to-be-done laundry on the floor, now saturated.  I look at the half-done laundry in the washer, still infused with soap.  Now what?  Where do I begin?  I can’t leave the wet piles of laundry on the floor.  I can’t leave the unfinished laundry in the tub.  I stand, motionless, and even thoughtless for a moment as if I were frozen in time.  Finally I can move again.  I turn and walk up the stairs, leaving the soggy mess behind.  And, here I sit, typing.

Water has always been an important element in my life.  Baptism is a foundational and necessary part of my identity.  I grew up on a lake and would much rather be there than anywhere else.  I am drawn to waterfalls like a magnet.  As much as I push conservation efforts and try really hard to do more than my share, I am guilty of longer-than-necessary showers.  Water is a healing, rejuvenating, forgiving, cleansing, energizing, relaxing complex part of who I am.  Yet, at this moment – I hate water.  Well, I hate this water.