Last night I made soup… the really hearty comforting kind that is perfect for this time of year when I am longing for spring, and yet it’s still threatening snow outside. The kind of soup without a recipe, with a handful of carrots, fingerling potatoes, or other tasty root vegetables you might have stashed in your fridge or pantry, a handful of herbs, crushed pepper, a splash of wine. It’s especially helpful if you have time to let the flavor profile develop as the vegetables simmer away… it’s the perfect type of soup for a day running errands, and working around the house, because it takes minimal effort and yet is so satisfying. I always throw in a cup of whole-grain and wild rice, and perhaps at the end a can of garbanzo beans and some chopped kale… I had every intention of blogging about this last night when the flavors were fresh in my mind, but I made the mistake of trying to do the dishes before sitting down to write.
The Soup
What happened over the next two hours was an epic battle with the drain, and it involved some cursing, perhaps a few tears, and an overall feeling of failure. I will be the first to admit that I am not particularly handy around the house, but I am a problem solver, and I can wield a plunger with the best of them. And plunge I did… for two hours, until I felt utterly defeated and frustrated and alone. I am house sitting, so I had no landlord to call, no maintenance request to submit, and at 9:30 at night I couldn’t think of a single person in Yamhill County who would come to my rescue. I poked and prodded the sink a bit more. I got out a step ladder, I stood on the counter, I rolled up my sleeves until I was elbow deep in kitchen sink swill. I cursed some more, and finally I called my brother. I know I just said that I couldn’t think of anyone to call, and I say this because I knew that under no circumstances would he actually come and help me, but when you are feeling desperate, sometimes you just hope for the best, and hope that the desperation in your voice comes through.
I hate asking my brother for help… mainly because regardless of the situation, he always insists on giving me a “life lesson” lecture rather than assistance. Considering the fact that he is only two years older than I am, I find this to be ridiculous and patronizing. I hate asking for help in the first place, and usually only ask for help as a last resort, when I have exhausted most of my other options, and at that point I’m usually not in the mood for a lecture. It ALWAYS starts out very after-school special like, and at some point the phrase “well what would you do if I wasn’t here? How would you handle the situation” at which point I always think “that is beside the point, because you are here, and I’m asking for help!”… It’s not like I was asking for a loan, or a kidney, I was asking for some upper body strength, and five minutes… which naturally I wasn’t going to get because I apparently needed to learn to “problem solve”. I’ve gotten this same lecture on multiple occasions… when I had a flat tire in the snow, whenever I move… and yet whenever he needs someone to let his dog out in the middle of the day, or if he is really backed up on grading papers he expects me to drop everything and help him out. Why are siblings such a pain in the ass?
I am fairly good at assessing situations. I knew how to fix the problem with the sink, I just lacked the physical strength, height, and overall coordination to pull it off. And that in itself was frustrating. No matter how hard I tried, the stagnant sink water wasn’t going anywhere, and I was pretty pissed about it. I was mad that I couldn’t fix the problem. I was mad that when I asked for help, instead my brother gave me the life lessons lecture, and then later called back to suggest that the only option I had left was to find some tools and take apart the sink piece by piece and clean out the drain from the bottom. But of course he wouldn’t listen to me, since I couldn’t seem to fix the problem, so naturally I must be wrong about what needed to be done… At that point, I was feeling pathetic, and was wishing that I had a boyfriend I could call, or a token male friend nearby who would be willing to save the day. I am not the type of woman who wants to be rescued, but last night all I wanted was for someone to plunge the sink… I didn’t want lectures, or advice, or suggestions (I knew what was wrong, I just couldn’t fix it!)… At this point I was angry, and covered in kitchen water, so I opted to leave it for the morning… and threw myself a tiny pity party. In the grand scheme of things, I understand that a sink clog is not the end of the world. But why is it that when you feel like you need a win, even the slightest thing like a malfunctioning garbage disposal can push you to the brink? I felt like a failure… and mentally and emotionally it was a downward spiral. There were fleeting thoughts of “what if I’m alone for the rest of my life, and never have anyone to help me fix the garbage disposal” and “If I can’t even figure out how to fix this, then how will I ever be independent” All of the self-doubt, the frustrations, and the self-loathing for being too uncoordinated to handle this on my own took over… and I was out of wine!
At one point I sent a text message to my ex-boyfriend, explaining my frustration about not having access to a y chromosome…(as a woman I probably shouldn’t say this, but I have no doubt in my mind that a man could have fixed the problem in 5-10 minutes. It took me 17 hours… I’m not saying a woman couldn’t have fixed the problem… but I was having some issues. ) He was sympathetic at least, but he also suggested that I would be a happier person if I moved to Portland… which frustrated me for entirely different reasons… One of my biggest pet peeves is when people try to problem solve my life. It’s one thing if I’m asking “oh what do you think of this?” or “what do you suggest?” but when I’m specifically having a garbage disposal crisis, and unsolicited advice about my personal life/ happiness is brought to the table, I get a little irritated… and not just in this specific instance. My mother is notorious for doing this sort of thing (which is probably why it irritates me so much)… I’m getting off topic. Anyway, there I was, feeling inadequate about my skills as a person, feeling frustrated, and mere hours before I’m supposed to sign a lease on what is, in my opinion,the perfect apartment, I had someone telling me that he thought all of my personal unhappiness was wrapped up in living where I live. I don’t think he was trying to irritate me… so I won’t hold a grudge, but the timing was not ideal. Did I mention that I was out of wine?
Thankfully, there was a gourmet chocolate bar in the mix, and thankfully after 17 hours, some liquid plumber, a lot of yoga, and pure stubbornness I was able to successfully plunge the kitchen sink. I also signed the lease, paid the deposit, and negotiated some built in bookshelves to be installed before I move in. I’m still peeved that whenever I ask my brother for help, he dances around it with ease, and I’m saddened by the fact that I have no one to call at 9:30 at night when Kale remnants wreak havoc on the drain. And I’m frustrated that I do not have as much horsepower as a garbage disposal…. But on the bright side, I have a kick ass soup in the fridge that has been developing flavor for 24 hours, and I stocked up on wine when I bought the liquid plumber. AKA, I win.
The Tortilla, Lime & Salt Chocolate Bar that helped me keep a grasp on my sanity.
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I know this is kind of late, but:
ReplyDeleteI live in Yamhill county.
I have Army issued upper body strength.
I like helping friends.
And you have my phone number.
I feel as though this is a bit preachy, which I fear isn't something you want to hear after this post. But I just wanted to extend the offer for future needs. Though I hope you don't have to go through so much frustration again that this would be relevant. But just incase.