Magnifisyncopathological

Gawddamn lame water and sewage systems. Specifically, the system that my apartment complex has stuck me with. This issue alone is driving me away from where I live now to someplace better, nicer, and more sane.

I've bitched to some people about this before (my apologies, Cameron), but I can't seem to vent properly each time. To anyone without ten minutes to spare, click onward. This may take a bit.

*deep breath*

FIRSTLY, THE GREMLINS CAME FOR MY COLD WATER:

I move in and all is well. In a flash of insight, I decide one day to un-concentrate some concentrated frozen juice I bought the day before. Cuz living in Central Texas means you're always thirsty. So I proceeded to make my juice and give it a hearty slug after sitting down to read a book.

"Sir, what would you like with your juice?"

"Umm...I'll take minerals with that. Everything ya got."

F-u-c-k-e-n nasty. Why I hadn't noticed this before is a flaw on my character and I promise to drink a pint of warm Schlitz (the one with the bull on the can) in one sitting to atone for my stupidity. The entire pitcher was ruined and every subsequent one after that. My cold water had become, literally under my nose, a thing to fear and loathe.

Now, unless I'm flushing the toliet (more on THAT later...), the only water used in my apartment is hot water. Calling the landowners resulted in an official *shrug* and the admittance that they had no control over the quality of the water being piped in. Curses! Curses on you and your damn idiot water supplier!

SECONDARILY, THE GREMLINS CAME FOR MY UNBLEMISHED PORCELIN SURFACES:

None of what follows applies to the kitchen. Of course, even though that should make me happy, the irrationality of it just pisses me off even further.

Since I now had a "hard water problem," I discovered the side benefits of having copious quantities of lime, calcium, and other things in my plumbing. The most obvious to any observer: the ugly rings and deposits left behind when water dried in the toliet and bathtub.

I figure, "Hey, it's just some lame mineral crap. I'm a strapping, healthy, robust human male. It'll take me, some chemicals, a dollop of elbow grease, and five minutes to erase these abominations!"

I gave up on the bathtub after getting post traumatic stress syndrome from the nightmares of never, ever being able to get rid of the splotches, after doing the best I could for two hours and then noticing how unpleasant the shower curtain looked on the inner side, and after lifting the shower mat to reveal something out of the Toxic Avenger. Fuck the tub; that's a losing battle.

I've had more success with the toilet, but only because I lowered my standards to redefine "Job Finished!" as "I give up because I'm too tired to give a damn about The Ring That Wouldn't Die." Soaking the bowl in undiluted Pinesol for eight hours and then coming home from work to scrub gets enough the gunk erased to let me sleep soundly at night.

TERTIARILY, THE GREMLINS CAME FOR MY WATER PRESSURE:

It took me a few months to come to grips with my cold water problem, but seeing as I rarely use the water in my place to begin with (I'm getting better at showering, I promise!), I found myself not minding so much.

Until the day I suddenly became impatient with the time it took for me to fill up a pot in order to boil some water to make rice. Or when showering felt more like standing in a light rain than under a fountain of cleansing H2O. Or when I fell asleep filling an icetray with water one night.

"Cricket Hollow apartments, how may I help you?"

"Your water system sucks worse than Sam's mom. Fix this shit or I'm outta here."

So they come over and do something magical and fix the problem. Of course, what they did to the shower wasn't so magical, as the three or four POUNDS OF MINERAL DEPOSITS they scoured from the inside of the piping were generously left splattered up and down my bathtub for me to inspect. I guess they wanted me to know they did something useful. Thanks, guys. Really. The hour I spent cleaning that shit up certainly wouldn't have been better wasted on getting wasted, reading about the evils of socialism, or watching porn!

FINALLY, THE GREMLINS CAME FOR MY HUMAN EXCRETORY WASTE DISPOSAL SYSTEM:

So, I've made up my mind to leave this place and find somewhere betta. In fact, I've got the apartment calling cards, floor plans, and advertisements I collected last week scattered about my floor at this very moment. I figured I'd go get some groceries, come home, eat a sammich, and tackle the fabulous deals the real estate hounds threw at my feet.

Before I left to get groceries, I make a pit stop in the bathroom. It was one of those pit stops where you realize you drank a bit too much water during the day and relax as you think about what to do next.

Get done. Stretch. Flush toliet. Walk away from the john, but only to turn back to look at it as it dangerously fills up to the top of the bowl. Widen eyes as you realize how lame that would be. Stand perched to act at a moment's notice (not that I'd really know what to do if it blew it's top) like some action star in a hall of mirrors. Time passes. Realize something is screwed with your toliet but that it's draining by itself and things'll be fine if you leave it be.

Damn it. I'm no toliet technician, but I know how they work. So I tinker with it when I get back home and see if the problem is anything Obvious Boy can solve. He can't, so He gives up and drinks a beer and makes a post about how gawddamn lame water and sewage systems burn His ass.