Down the Drain - Metaphorically and Literally

 In all of my wisdom, I thought today was a good day to try to fix the slow draining sink in the primary bath.  I had already worked a full day, finished a gardening project, and had a telephone check-in with the hospice caseworker.  

I mean, could there BE better timing?

sigh.

Oh wait, I have to mention that before I started I had to go get my little stool out of Monica's Closet, where I spotted my m-i-l's Christmas decorations that I brought home but hadn't boxed up yet.  Like a punch in the nose, I realized she wouldn't be here in December.  

So, yeah, Absolutely go take apart the bathroom sink.  Good choices.

It went as well as to be expected.  The shmamazon delivery guy probably heard me cursing a blue streak, dropped the packages and ran.  (probably not solely about the sink but whatevs)  What usually takes about twenty minutes took much more than that and I felt like I needed to shower afterward.  To add insult to injury, I'm not sure I fixed it.  It's better, not fixed.

Sidenote: I'd already done the baking soda, vinegar, boiling water trick.  No improvement, in fact I think it just made it mad.

I'm purposefully and methodically finding little projects to occupy my time in between work, chores, phone calls, and visits.  Everything feels unsettled...because it is...and I'm trying to exert the tiniest bit of control where I can.  Clearly, it's working out for me. *sarcasm font*

Oh, and there's a chance of snow on Friday.  Because, why not?

There is simultaneously a lot and nothing going on right now.  We're in the waiting space now, so time has considerably slowed to a crawl.  The big family projects are done, most of the tasks that we can do are completed, and now we wait.

An inappropriate story to lighten the mood. (Or not, TW: maybe)  There was discussion with hospice about reducing the use of the feeding tube last week.  The m-i-l still wants us to continue using it (I know) and that we can't try to kill her that way. (as quoted by the nurse)  Without thinking, my dark humor said "Oh no, we'd use a pillow for sure."  

LUCKILY, the hospice nurse laughed.  This tiny paranoia is part of the grieving process and it's Super Fun for the family.  Mix in a little denial and anger and we had just a fantastic week last week with the m-i-l. In addition to the whole dying part, I mean.

I think I need to go break something. Not the sink though. Well, maybe.