Remember all that bitching I did in the last post about a clogged drain and how much it sucked and how much it ruined my day and blah blah blah?
Oh, honey, I so did not know what I was talking about.
Because a clogged drain is nothing, NOTHING, compared to what was waiting for me a few days later. I'll start out by noting that all you have to say to a condo high-riser owner is the word "leak" and it can be enough to prompt a panic attack.
There I was on Wednesday night around 8:30. I had just gotten home from dinner at my Dad's and was going through the usual nightly ritual...packing my lunch for the next day, brushing my teeth, etc. when *knock knock* at the front door. I opened it up and standing there was one of our building's security guards who said, "I'm here about the leak." "What leak?" I responded (but I was already freaking out inside). All he responded with was some crap about someone in a lower apartment reporting a leak. The guy didn't even know where it was, so I checked around the bathroom and the kitchen, but didn't see anything. And that was the end of that.
Or so I thought.
Long story short (too late), it turns out the drain pipe behind my kitchen sink (in the wall) was leaking into the apartments two floors below me. I don't know why it would be two floors down, but whatever. Dammit I'm a doctor, not a plumber. Actually, I'm not a plumber either but whatever. The thing took 4 days to repair, involved tearing out the back of my (relatively new) kitchen cabinet, and completely ruining my day.
The good news? I didn't have to pay for anything. Not the repairs to the pipe or the damage to the other apartments. THANK THE LORD. I have been down the road (with the great New Years Eve toilet leak of '08) and it is not one I am eager to revisit.
Happily, the kitchen sink drama is over, and the next blog post will be about something much more exciting: chocolate and cupcakes!