I (Almost) Did It!

I'm a notoriously lazy person. I've found a way to control my laptop with my phone, the only "extra" time I put in at work is to develop shortcut keys so I don't have to work as hard, and a lot of my kids' punishments are simply making them get something from the fridge for me.

But becoming a homeowner has changed me slightly. The cheap side of me has started to outmatch the lazy part of me. Because if there's anything I hate more than spending my time and energy on something, it's spending my money on something. So I've taken to doing more projects on my own. In the past, there was always that one safety net that comes with renting. I've always had a landlord to call. When we found ants in the kitchen or our air conditioner stopped working, we just called our landlord. And we never paid a dime. And I really thought that luxury would be important to me. I thought that if something went wrong with our new house, I'd just pick up the phone and call someone.

But when a minor sink repair became necessary, I didn't call anybody. I picked up my phone, but I didn't dial. I Googled it. And like a true weekend warrior, I spent 7 hours of my Saturday working on it. And I'm here to report that after 7 grueling hours, a bruised back, three trips to Lowes, a body full of aching joints, three broken drain pipes, and one tough piece of PVC pipe... I failed.

I failed miserably, in fact. My sink was worse off than before I started. And I had broken $30 worth of plumping equipment. But here's the good news... I ended up calling someone and avoiding further expense. My 87-year old grandfather (who I am now convinced is Chuck Norris from the future) came over and fixed it in an afternoon. I'd like to say that my groundwork on the installation made it possible for him to do his part (so I will say that). I did all the initial work, he just completed the project. So it was a team effort. The end.

Please Donate To My Ego

I just remembered one of the reasons I stopped blogging a few months ago. Yes, I was busy. Yes, my life was getting so normal that I didn't have as many weird stories to share. But also, I remember thinking to myself, "Nobody reads these blog posts. I'm writing for no one." And that stemmed from the fact that I wasn't getting any comments. And then I looked at the stats for my blog. It shows how many people have looked at each post. And I realized that people were reading the posts, but not commenting. And that's a little different because it meant people were still showing up.  So that realization was one of the reasons I started writing again.

But I still can't shake that feeling that I'm talking to almost nobody. And the only thing sadder than a blogger (I'm allowed to say that) is a lonely blogger who doesn't have any readers. So even though I'm logical enough to know that people are reading, seeing "0 comments" on six straight posts hits me right in my lonely gland (I have a sensitive lonely gland - it's a rare condition).

That being said, I'm not begging people to comment here. Begging is sad. And it's usually asking for something that you don't deserve. I'm simply pleading. Pleading is different. I think I deserve some comments on here. So I'm pleading, not begging.

But just to make sure that you have something to comment on... don't comment on this post. It's kinda dumb. Go back to a random post from the past. There are about 450 of them to choose from. I get an email with a "Blog" label on it that tells me someone's commented. And I appreciate every single one I get. So it'll be like watching a telethon for my ego and seeing the numbers go up to improve my self-centeredness. So please donate. My ego wants it.