Fate: 1, Adulthood: 0

Sometimes I wonder at the fact that my parents let me leave the house to go to college. More frequently, I wonder that the university officials never called them and ordered them to take me back. Almost daily, I boggle at the fact that none of my various roommates over the years have called the nice men in the white jackets to…relocate me.

I am fairly certain that I will never be very good at life. I’ve come to terms with this, it’s simply a matter of my cosmic, karmic makeup.

To illustrate my point, allow me to list all the responsible things I accomplished today:

  • went to pharmacy
  • washed two loads of clothing
  • changed sheets
  • washed quilt and bed cover and accent pillow cases
  • refilled birdfeeder
  • refilled suet cage
  • took trash out
  • loaded and ran the dishwasher
  • watered my plants
  • made backups of my iTunes library
  • apologized to the spider whose web I walked into in the basement

I decided a while ago that I had earned a treat. Yesterday evening, I installed my air conditioner in a window and scrubbed the tub, so I cranked the temperature dial way down and went to draw some bathwater so I could read and marinate. I wandered back to my room to grab the book I’m gnawing on (Outrageous Fortune by Tim Scott) and perched on the corner of my bed to play a quick round of a flash game.

Suddenly I realized I’d played nine rounds of a quick flash game.

The phenomenon wasn’t caught on tape but I’m fairly certain that my feet didn’t actually touch the ground. I flew to the bathroom. I got there just moments after the water had started spilling over the side of the tub and washing across the floor. The floor mat was only partially damp and the water hadn’t reached the door yet, and I applaud myself for having the presence of mind to turn the water off before dashing away to get a towel.

I was so flustered when I pulled the plug to start draining that I was only tangentially aware of the temperature of the water. It was vaguely soothing against the hot panic and the heavy humidity.

That was my second failure of the night.

The third came immediately after: I opted for refilling the tub, albeit without leaving the room. [Come to think of it, this is really more of a corollary to the second failure. I shall instead refer to it as Failure 2A.] It wasn’t until I’d choked on a yelp and thrown myself back against the towel rack that I registered what my poor, wet foot was telling me.

There was no hot water. There hadn’t been any hot water.

Having weighed Failure 2 and its corollary, Failure 2A, against my sporadic hippie revulsion to wasting resources, I bared my teeth and stepped into the water. Thus, I begat Failure Three.

Cold, cold, cold, cold, cold.

Surprised though I am to admit it, I’m rather glad today was so hot and humid and sticky and icky. Once my feet went numb, splashing in the water was much less of a trial than it would have been otherwise. I couldn’t make myself sit and soak or wash my hair – I may be crazy in the head but I have no desire to die from summer pneumonia – but I was able to achieve a state of being which I believe will keep the CDC from declaring me a walking biohazard.

There were many things I could and should have done differently tonight, not the least of which is simply not to have flooded the bathroom, but sadly this is one lesson that I don’t believe I will ever actually learn. Don’t leave water running, don’t leave the bath unattended, don’t play flash games, take notice if your hand is cold. This night has been the latest in a long string of events and occurrences in my life which have made it very clear to me that I am always going to be a leetle beet speshul.

It would not be untoward to dub my particular malady “Common-sensically Challenged.” I typically mean well but sadly I’m just not the most sensible specimen of humanity. I am the posterchild for Ford Prefect’s opinion of Earth.

Also, I now realize that I forgot to buy toilet paper.

So. A flooded bathroom, a cold bath, and a bleak outlook on the morning. This is what I get for congratulating myself on being a mature, self-sufficient, self-reliant, responsible adult. Never let it be said that karma is not swift!

[As for me being notverygood at life, well. I haven’t really been counting but this is probably…the seventh time in three years that bathroom has been flooded. Three of those times weren’t me. I am magnanimous; you may draw your own conclusions.]

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Fate: 1, Adulthood: 0

  1. This has brought to mind the times (at least 2) when I set the water to boil, ran upstairs to do 1 thing whilst waiting for said water, and returned just prior to the pot starting a kitchen fire after boiling dry. I wasn’t playing a game but am sure it was some mundane task and maybe more than one that caught my attention making me totally forget that I had water boiling on the stove. It is very hard being a grown up with no one to remind us of what we are supposed to be paying attention to.

    And hey, those darn games are addictive. I think they are conspiracy to make us forget that real life exists!!!

    • I am constantly amazed that I haven’t yet burned down any of my apartments. Typically when I have problems with boiling and pots, though, it involves things boiling up and out of the pot and spilling all over the stove, counter, and sometimes the floor. I’ve lost more than one attempt at oatmeal that way.

  2. Oh dear. I’m sorry you inherited the ‘Common-sensically Challenged’ gene, Meg. More than once I’ve turned on the water for a bath, tested and adjusted the temperature, and left the room for one reason or another while the tub filled, and returned to find that I had forgotten to set the plug. All that water just running down the drain… Sad.

    • Seriously, I blame you for pretty much everything. I’m not sure whether it’s nature or nurture, but I inherited it in spades! ♡

      At least I can use the “there are four other people in this apartment” excuse for my recurrent water-temperature failings. It’s HARD to keep track of who’s using hot water when. That’s what I keep telling myself, anyway.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s