Revisiting the Sink
It's become a joke at my house, my inability to handle clogged sinks with much graciousness. Water backs up, and everyone runs for the hills, knowing that I'm not going to be a terribly pleasant person for the next brief while. In my defense, I'm better than I used to be, and rarely throw the kind of tantrum that I was once famous for, the kind that would bring my neighbors to my apartment wondering if everything was all right.
This morning, the bathroom sink is clogged.
And my mother is coming today.
Now, the latter is a good thing, except that it means I have to handle the former pronto, as in right after I finish typing this. (Well, I have maybe an hour.) Now, if you've read my blog the past couple of weeks, you know I'm doing my best to climb the mountains of aesthetics, theology, theodicy, and other such hoity-toity words, looking for the God breathed beauty of the world.
Somehow, I don't expect to find much in the plugged drain. (Much beauty, that is. I'll probably find a whole lot of something.) Hey, it could be a lot worse...it could be the toilet, it could be the replacement of pipes running to the street with backhoes and thousands of dollars. I think it's just a little blob of gunk just inside the wall.
But you know, and this is half tongue in cheek, half not, what I've been saying all along it that there's beauty in bringing order to chaos, and running water is one of the simple things for which I'm sure I'm not nearly thankful enough. Looking at it like that...
...when the water runs free, it'll be a beautiful thing...
6:24:41 AM
