CHAOSTOCOSMOS

Wednesday, 20 August 2008

A Real Crap and Bull Story

978945_38287332 Style Council might have sung, "You don’t have to take this crap", the reality, however …

In a previous post, I detailed how we finally got the tiles on the bathroom wall fixed - which, when they were loose made taking a shower into a "dangerous sport" - but if you think that was the end of the matter, you'd be seriously wrong.

Amongst many other things, this still leaves the problem of the impossibly low water pressure ...

Warning: whilst I often talk a load of crap, this post actually does talk about poo (human waste), so you might want to avoid reading it over your lunch!

Anyway, the water pressure is so pathetic that, in the shower, you can't get wet all at once and rinsing off soap or shampoo takes f-o-r-e-v-e-r. At this time of year it's a pain, but in winter ... (With fibromyalgia pain? I don't think so!)

Unless there's some miraculous improvement in the meantime, I face not being able to shower or wash my hair at all then. Mother doesn't take showers, gets her hair done outside (or washes it in the kitchen sink) and claims that the water pressure is perfectly normal.

When you put your hand immediately under a tap, maybe it feels like it. Once it has to go up, then fall from shower height and runs out of energy half way down, it's like trying to shower in light, lukewarm drizzle. And apart from the cold, I simply can't stand long enough.

Now, if at this stage, you're thinking that you've heard this one before, you'd be absolutely right, because this was exactly the same problem with poor water pressure (and poor maintenance, poor quality, etc) - and the landlady claiming otherwise - I had in Tenerife, but at least in Tenerife, I had the option of calling someone to fix things. Here I can't do that.

The reason, in both cases is the same: extreme meanness, coupled with the fact that it's not them suffering so they could care less about it.

This same crap (pun intended) water pressure also refuses to sink er, "solid human effluent" down the loo. It generally takes 2-3 flushes to kill, which is definitely not nice to live with.

Most of the time it won't even cope with half a dozen sheets of bog roll, which doesn't bother me, because I'm used to putting it in the bin in Tenerife, except she will NOT permit a bin in the toilet (presumably, it wouldn't look nice).

Beware of mad cows

Notwithstanding that the paper issue alone proves otherwise, do you want to know what my mother's answer to this is? It's because I eat too fast. Maybe compared to a cow chewing the cud, or the excessive amount of time it takes my mother to eat nearly nothing (as it is with lots of old people), of course, it may seem as if I eat fast, but it's only relatively fast and, even if I do eat fast, I'm sure that isn't the reason, because in all my years, I've NEVER experienced this "personal" problem anywhere in the world before and, I think I'd have noticed, don't you?

The mad cow version is that there can be nothing wrong with the water pressure, the toilet can't be too old and in need of replacement either and, naturally, it has - of course - never happened to her (using the same loo, I can assure you that is not true), so it must be me.

808214_68296464 She who defies all known logic, has  decided that, because (according to her) I eat too fast, somehow this has made my poo "unsinkable." I'd love to ask a qualified expert (what would you call them, a crapologist?) if eating speed can affect poo "sinkability", but it's not the point, is it?

While eating speed might influence weight control, stools that are firm, well-formed and floating generally indicate a healthy, balanced condition, we're told (see Floating And Sinking Poop from The Poop Report and The Bowl Truth) (amazing what you can find online.) :) so I'm in no doubt it's just a total load of crap (of course, pun intended) that she's made up to suit her own purposes.

Ah, but she can prove it, she argues, because my dad had this "problem" too (very comforting to hear that, since he had cancer of the colon). All that tells me is that the toilet cistern has been less than efficient for years, because he died in 2001, but I just gave up before saying that.

I've considered suicide, but maybe I should just get a Shit Box! :)

So, as the tiler was also a plumber, I'd wanted to casually mention the water pressure, but it proved impossible to do so without mother jumping in. And what did she tell him? Believe this: That the pressure is MUCH higher than it was when I first came here (not so I'd noticed when I last showered) and, now it's SO HIGH (she tells him) that the "water goes everywhere."

What planet is she on for Pete's sake?  

beijing-olympics-blogroll

And, just to add even more surrealism to an already totally bizarre situation, there's the matter of the toilet roll. (I couldn't resist stealing this image from Chez Pazienza's blog - who clearly shares my enthusiasm for the Olympics.)

What the image also shows is what I had always understood, that the "right" way to hang a toilet roll is with the flappy bit over the front, you know, so you can grab it to use.

And I know that is how chamber maids - not that I've even done the job - are taught to do it in hotels, with the little pointy bit to make it look pretty.

Truthfully, I don't think it matters a jot, nevertheless ...

Oh no, that isn't right! If I hang a toilet roll "the right way," the next time I go to the loo, I find it hanging the other way, with the loose bit hanging down the back and I even got yet another lecture on why I am wrong and why wrong is right. One day, just to see what she'd do, I made a point of correcting it and, every time I put it "the right way" round, she put it back "wrong" again.

Every single time throughout the day ... which has to be the most pathetically petty deliberate belligerent pedantic, obsessive-compulsive, control-freaky contrariness evar!

Pamela is a former accountant, recovering journalist and international cat herder, disabled and chronically sick with Myalgic Encephalomyelitis, Fibromyalgia and Cervical spondylosis, fluent in three languages; English, Spanish and Rubbish. Mostly writes in the latter. She likes Genealogy, Model Railways and Cats.

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