Come, lie down on the couch

Being dis-located is a great opportunity to learn about yourself.  So what does this mean?

I am fine with the fact that half our electrical outlets sizzle when in use.  I am fine getting water burns from the solar hot-water heater release valve that is pointed right at our terrace.  I am fine not being able to do laundry and run the mixer-grinder in the kitchen at the same time because that will blow a fuse.  I am fine with a shower that randomly soars to 120˚.  I am fine with the loss of power four times a week.  And I am fine with an elevator that more often than not is stuck on the 4^th floor, and so of no value to those of us on the 7^th floor which is really the 8^th because the ground floor is zero.

But two months of clogged plumbing in the kitchen is going to be the death of me.  OK, not two months straight; just two months of more days without plumbing than with.  But still, it is really going to kill me.  I believe the plumber when he says that the clog is in the pipe that runs under the kitchen floor, and so the only way to clear it is to tear up the kitchen.  And I understand that the owner is very hesitant to do this; I barely trust these plumbers with our plunger.  I also understand that this is a pretty old building, especially by Bangalore standards, and so we are lucky the plumbing works at all.  So yes, I really do understand it all.  But at 10:30 at night, when I am doing the dishes, two plates away from bed, and water starts seeping out from under the sink I just lose it.  I am overcome by a gut wrenching, soul shredding, steam-coming-out-of-the-ears kinda crazy.