Mystery Leak

It would appear that the pipe drip in my basement is a mystery.

A co-worker and her hubby kindly came out to look at it a bit earlier and of course it wouldn't drip. All the pipes seem well-sealed and tight, so the husband's speculation is that the water is running down a pipe behind the wall. Possibly from the shower, though when I filled and then drained the tub while they were here, nothing happened. Nothing happened when I filled the kitchen sink either, though.

So it's a mystery and a potentially very costly one, if the leak is behind the wall somewhere, especially if it's coming from upstairs. That would entail much ripping apart of walls and thousands of dollars. Right now it's not serious, so I won't worry--too much--about it.

But maybe it's time to sell and rent. Of course, no one is going to buy a leaky townhouse that needs a new bathroom, kitchen, and a slew of cosmetic work. And I suppose the Universe would have to take Nicki away from me too, because I know in my heart he'd never do well in a place that confined him to indoors-only.

Have I said before that it was a bad idea, in hindsight, to keep the house? When the putz and I split all those years ago, we ought to have sold this damned place and taken a loss on it. Now I'm screwed because I don't have the funds to keep it up and I don't have the funds to move and right now I'm frustrated beyond belief. Wildly upset and pissed off, in fact.

So for the rest of the afternoon I'm abdicating responsibility for this house and for my life. I think I'll get into my sweat pants and a tee-shirt and go crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head and hide. Do not disturb.

Now, after that vent, I'll leave you with a few cheery snapshots from yesterday, just to offset all the negative energy swirling around me at the moment.