Tuesday, rather than enjoying a sweltering session grasping at plastic holds at the bouldering gym as planned, I found myself lying on my back under the kitchen sink living out my plumber fantasy. Remember when I successfully removed the p-trap to unsuccessfully retrieve a pair of body jewelry that I had dropped down the drain? If not, there’s a blog post about that.
This time my landlady requested that I grope for some pipes through a hole in the wall: a poorly placed access hole that did not line up with this purported handle. Also, being trapped under the p-trap meant I couldn’t peer inside the hole.
Do you see the valve? No. The answer is no. But, when your landlady, who is renting out a suite to you for much less than the market rate, asks you to stick your hand in a hole in the wall, you do it.
It is 34° C in Montréal today which means if you wish to purchase a tub of ice cream to cool down, you’d only have about five minutes to transport it back home in your vehicle.
Montréal is a city that cannot be navigated without being forced to take surprise detours. Today, thousands of sweaty Montréalaises arrived home from the supermarket to find that they had bought a whole tub of… mint chocolate chip soup.
I generally enjoy the heat. Like many people, I do enjoy stating the obvious by declaring, “It’s hot!” Unlike most, I don’t do it in that whiny way. Rather, I do this to fit in; to show hearing people that deaf people understand the concept of body temperature.
“I can’t hear you whining, but please allow me to inform you that I, too, find it hot.”
Since I did not buy ice cream, I cannot cry over melted ice cream. Instead, I will complain about Yann’s fan.
Now, when I moved in with him back in March it was decided that we’d give away my super cheap fan and keep his much sturdier-looking fan. What I did not realize was that his fan came with a “Dance Party” mode that cannot be shut off.