The incessant dripping nearly caused me a nervous breakdown.
No, I’m really serious.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
All I could think about was as the water fell down our
bathroom drain, so did our money…like coins…drip drip dripuntil it was all completely dry. The
water supply and our bank account.
A professional had already looked at our sink. Of course,
when he arrived it had stopped dripping. Stubborn, manipulative sink. As if I
was making up a story. As if I just wanted to call him to look at our sink just
“If a sink fixes itself, we just leave it alone,” He said.
He also muttered something about “old pipes” and “calcium deposits.” “Sometimes
you just have to work the faucets and they clear up.” By “work the faucets” he
meant turn them on and off really fast.
Two days after this, it started again. Drip. Drip. Drip. Sometimes
sluggish drips. Sometimes brisk ones. Sometimes even a stream of water.
Work the faucets. Okay. I did that. Sometimes it helped.
Sometimes the dripping persisted.
One night the dripping kept me up most of the night. The
sound of it distracted me which also produced a ridicuous amount of anxiety. Our water
bill. We would need to take out a loan. We would need second jobs.
I said something to my husband about it and he said it might
just fix itself again. Okay.
Days later. Still dripping. Probably 1,000gallons of wasted water. I looked for second ajob to support our sink. I call the
bank to ask about loans.
Yes, I like to exaggerate.
Finally, I called Raymond while I was at work.
How did you sleep? He asked.
You worry too much.
I will try to fix it.
Really? You would do that?
Later, I came home to find all of our under-the-sink items scattered all over our
bed and my husband under the sink, with his legs poking out.
An hour or so passed...and finally...
No more dripping. No more anxiety over water bills and no
more sleepless nights.