I had my first housewife adventure today. My apartment got flooded :D. And the reason I'm gleeful 'bout this is, as my ever-helpful husband puts it ever so subtly, 'Be...cau...se you don't have to do anything but sit on the couch". Now the question is, what the hell am I doing sitting pretty on the sofa while the house fills its insides with water? Not definitely waiting for a little dinghy to wing by and rescue me.
It all starts when I wash up my dishes and come out into the hall to relax a wee bit and also help myself to a chocolate milano (aaaaaaaah ...) cookie. Unfortunately, the hall decides to wash itself and there's a film of water stretching all the way till the carpet, devouring a bit of it already. After a 45-min session with the mop and the floor, I ditch the milano and decide to go in to the kitchen to replenish my strength with a glass of milk. And what do you know. More water. And I had JUST finished a 30-minute session with the kitchen BEFORE I had that 45-min session with the hall and I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!!
I decide to pop by my neighbour and ask him if he could help me a bit and hey!Its the maintenance guys in there (Empty apartment + place crawling with maintenance guys = relieved and happy me). And before you know it, our place is crawling with the maintenance dudes. By the way, ever since I've moved in here, I have been wanting to mop that hall, but owing to a variety of reasons, mainly laziness, I've been putting that off. And now, that hall's been cleaned five to six times. And I'm not the one doing it!!! :) God bless those maintenance chappies.
The work's still going on by the way, even as I type this. There's a pipe in there that's leaking and the chappies have decided to blow a hole in the wall (not ours, the empty apartment gets the brunt of it. Yet again.) to fix it. I hope it turns out all fine and more importantly, dry.
So that's that. I'll get going now. Have to visit a temple.
PS : Runaway leaks, flooded house and visiting temples. I really AM a housewife.
PPS: Love it.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
The strange case of the issue with the tissue.
I'm generally not one for body humour ... especially if its the lower half of the body and its multifarious aspects that's under scrutiny. So it took a long time for me to decide on whether or not to write 'bout whatever it is that I'm about to write now. You see ... its about (hushed whispers) my tussle with the tissue.
I recently got married (normal voice) and like many married women who move to the US 'coz their corresponding pati parmeshwars stay there; I did too. Our flight route took us through London, starting from Mumbai, and finally landing at Washington DC. Now the thing is, just before we left, I had an attack of gastroenteritis, and that meant that I had to rush to the bathroom at the slightest gesture from my poor stomach. So there I was in that constant mumble-y state of mind, and rumble-y state of tummy and it was with that, that I left my beloved Hyderabad. Anyway, we soon landed in Heathrow and nature called, and then eventually started to yell.
I had to rush to the loo, and... no water! And tissue... ewwww. Is it me or does anyone else also find the whole tissue thingy gross? 'Coz using a piece of paper to do away with your job is really not my idea of a job well done. (And I can't believe I just typed that!) Anyway, what happened had to happen. When I came to the US and stepped into my new home however, I decided to put my foot down. No tissue. I lost. Well, not half actually. I got a jar.
Hey its not like I didn't try you know. I did. But I think I stay jarred. The other day, I went out with a couple of friends to play pool. A few half-hours later, my friend G draws me aside and asks me if I'd adjusted with the tissue. As you know, I'm a shy and retiring person, who generally shrinks from discussing stuff like that. I tried to wriggle out of the situation. I know I'm going to regret writing this later, but I think I mumbled something 'bout alternating.
But the question is, is it just me? I want to know if there are other stricken humans out there too who grapple with the issue of the tissue. If I can be brazen enough to write about this fragrant topic, I'm sure the comments can be air-freshener-ed in too.
It’s what they say ...'Speak up Amreeka'.
I recently got married (normal voice) and like many married women who move to the US 'coz their corresponding pati parmeshwars stay there; I did too. Our flight route took us through London, starting from Mumbai, and finally landing at Washington DC. Now the thing is, just before we left, I had an attack of gastroenteritis, and that meant that I had to rush to the bathroom at the slightest gesture from my poor stomach. So there I was in that constant mumble-y state of mind, and rumble-y state of tummy and it was with that, that I left my beloved Hyderabad. Anyway, we soon landed in Heathrow and nature called, and then eventually started to yell.
I had to rush to the loo, and... no water! And tissue... ewwww. Is it me or does anyone else also find the whole tissue thingy gross? 'Coz using a piece of paper to do away with your job is really not my idea of a job well done. (And I can't believe I just typed that!) Anyway, what happened had to happen. When I came to the US and stepped into my new home however, I decided to put my foot down. No tissue. I lost. Well, not half actually. I got a jar.
Hey its not like I didn't try you know. I did. But I think I stay jarred. The other day, I went out with a couple of friends to play pool. A few half-hours later, my friend G draws me aside and asks me if I'd adjusted with the tissue. As you know, I'm a shy and retiring person, who generally shrinks from discussing stuff like that. I tried to wriggle out of the situation. I know I'm going to regret writing this later, but I think I mumbled something 'bout alternating.
But the question is, is it just me? I want to know if there are other stricken humans out there too who grapple with the issue of the tissue. If I can be brazen enough to write about this fragrant topic, I'm sure the comments can be air-freshener-ed in too.
It’s what they say ...'Speak up Amreeka'.
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