Last week, my toilet would not stop running. When jiggling the handle didn't work, I decided to tighten things up a bit. I got out my screwdriver, turned a couple of screws, and the toilet relaxed. "That's right!" I thought. "This is not the average housewife you're dealing with here. You can't bring me down, toilet! I am the master of disaster!" The next time I flushed the toilet, it busted. Shocked that my victory was so short-lived, I rushed to the odds-and-ends drawer to find something to stop the flood of water. I found a key (to...?) and jammed it into the toilet tank contraption. It was a good short-term fix if you didn't use the toilet.
I entered a section of Lowes I previously avoided and liked to pretend didn't exist. "Toilet parts? Those break?" They don't break unless your husband is out of the country. So I bought more than I needed, just in case, and set my jaw to doing the work. That means I ate several pieces of chocolate and watched an episode of The Closer to feel empowered. Finally, I entered the bathroom prepared for the inevitable bacteria bath. I followed the directions, pieced together the parts, dirtied my hands, and felt like a warrior princess. Actually, I felt more like the princess's slave who gets thrown into prison for screwing up her bathroom. It kept leaking.
I dug through the garbage, locating the discarded parts. I examined them to make sure that I had assembled the new parts correctly. I had. I looked on line for answers and discovered that when there are parts labeled, "Ballcock" it is nearly impossible to find responsible, serious answers. On one site, there was a warning that basically said, "If you can't post anything mature, don't post anything at all!"
I came to the conclusion that maybe it just needs a little time. After a while, it will leak, I mean work, itself out.
No comments:
Post a Comment