Skip to main content

Getting a new tub!

First, they have to destroy the tiles around the old one, to get at it:



Then they pull the old tub out through my bedroom closet, apparently:


So this is what a bathroom without a tub looks like, for anyone who is curious. AND note, it would appear that upon seeing my bathroom sink, the plumber decided it best to replace that sucker too. Which may or may not be a good thing. I can't see from the packaging what the new sink is going to look like. I kind of liked the old sink. It was wide and shallow, which perhaps is an odd thing to like in a bathroom sink, but I did.


Now, you can't really tell because of all the crap that is in it, but this is my new bathtub:


One would think that the first thing one would do with a new tub is NOT use it as a garbage receptacle for broken tiles. Could easily explain how the old tub got damaged to the point that it had to be replaced in the first place.

As you can see, my bathroom is still non-user-friendly. When I first arrived, my toilet was non-operational, so we were given a key to an unoccupied suite down the hall that was being renovated so we could use the toilet. Now I have the keys to a different unoccupied under-renovation suite so I can use the shower. Except it doesn't have so much as a shower rod for a curtain. I am happy to report, though, that it is possible to angle the shower head in such a fashion, and use one's body in such a way, that most of the water can be bounced back onto the shower stall's back wall rather than out towards the rest of the bathroom where an absent curtain would be most detrimental. This does require you face the bathroom door squarely, though. And if you have watched too many horror movies in your life, when you're in an unoccupied furniture-less suite -- even though you have locked all three locks on the front door and the lock on the bathroom door -- then staring at a bathroom door while exhibiting full frontal conjures up images of that door bursting open and a masked psycho with a swiss army knife contraption full of sharp instruments can't help come to mind.

It was a very quick shower.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Picture Puzzler

A friend sent me another picture from the wrap party. As I looked at it, and recalled the good times, I was struck by something really unusual. See if you can spot it: I'll give you all some time to guess...

Batten down the hatches -- we're in it for the long haul!

Given that the weather reports for Edmonton this weekend are grim grim grim (lows of minus 33, highs of minus 25 -- with wind chills of around minus 35 to 40), I woke up early this morning to get all errands for the weekend out of the way in one fell swoop. I barely needed a coat this morning as I headed out to my car to embark on my mission. With each passing hour, the thermometer dipped a degree or twelve. By time I was done driving around (and paused to catch a movie at the neighbourhood googolplex), it was chill-lay outside. I am now snuggly boarded up in my apartment, with no plans to so much as peek my nose out my window until Tuesday (when the temps shall return to a balmy minus 15). Groceries? Check. Toiletries? Check. Magazines to curl up with? Check. Christmas Presents? Check. Lessee, I got my father what he's been asking for since I was old enough for him to give me his Christmas wish list: And I think my mother will enjoy her bungalow by the stream: For my sister and he...

And they called me mad when I bought the bunker in the woods!

I had heard that one way of thwarting telemarketers was to make them think the number they have dialed is in fact a fax machine.  I've tried different tones on my cordless phone, all to no avail.  Then I had an epiphany: When I turned sixteen, my sister bought me a new-fangled telephone.  It had push buttons, but it was still just a rotary phone - when you pressed each button to dial, you still heard the rotary "tat-a-tat-tat-tat" with every number.  I had held onto this phone ever since.  It's cute.  It works.  There was no reason to get rid of it. I was willing to bet that, in this day and age of advanced technology rendering yesterday's device obsolete on a daily basis, a telemarketer - who is likely going to be decades younger than my phone - would be unable to even identify a rotary phone by sight much less by sound. And voila!  Answering the phone with my rotary phone, and constantly pressing the buttons, the telemarketer kept repea...