Happy $**%%^ Birthday to Me!

I awakened this morning to the dawn of another year of my life...and to a lack of a working septic system. Seems that our septic backed up into our basement -- specifically, into our washing machine. I am currently sitting here at home, waiting for the septic system people to come pump out my tank so that I can do some of the things I typically take for granted. Like showering and flushing the toilet.

One of my friends kindly pointed out that if I were a pig, I would be thrilled to have the opportunity to go into the privacy of my own basement and wallow in the sludge. Ain't gonna happen. The only thing I want to wallow in is self-pity.

Once the septic system people get things working again, it will be time to bleach everything in the basement. The thought of all the bacteria sloshing around down there is just too icky for words.

Things have to get better than this, don't they? I don't want this to be the harbinger of things to come during the last year of my 30s. And right now, I really want a new washing machine. No amount of bleach in the world will ever make me feel like it's clean -- not after what I've seen inside it.

Just. So. Gross.

UPDATE: The septic system guy came and took care of the situation. Man, oh, man...that is one job I wouldn't want. When he took the cap off the tank, the stench was worse than anything I have ever smelled.

$270 later, Nate and I have working indoor plumbing! What a glorious thing. We were feeling like Jethro and Ellie Mae before Jed hit crude when he was shootin' at some food. I am grateful to report that there are no outhouses in our immediate future.

Thank you, Septic Man. Thank you.