This morning I got up, rinsed my dirty cereal bowl, flushed the toilet, ran the tap to wash my hands, and every time I used a faucet I thought I noticed a little bit less water pressure.  Sure enough, within about an hour, the water was completely shut off.  Stephen had messed with the water heater the night before, and so I figured he had just twisted something too tight and he could fix it later in the day when he got home from school.

But when I walked out to my car at 10 to go to my doctor’s appointment*, I saw the true culprit: a city water crew was a few doors down, with cones blocking off a huge geyser that was sending hundreds of gallons of water down the curb.  (Stephen told me later that the water was spraying four hours earlier when he left the house for a breakfast meeting.)

The irony of the tons of wasted water in the gutter while I tried to coax drips from my sink was enough for me to shake my fist at our local government, but the cherry on top came a couple of hours later, when the doorbell rang while we were eating lunch.  On the porch was a nice young man wearing a city badge.  “Just wanted to let you know your water will probably be out for about 6-8 hours today,” he announced.

“Um…yeah, I noticed.” I said, trying not to be rude.  “Does that mean 6-8 hours from when the water stopped running at 9 this morning?  Or 6-8 hours from now?”

He didn’t know.  So my sink is full of dirty lunch dishes, my floors are not mopped like I had planned, and I am spending the rest of the afternoon at Starbucks.  As if I needed an excuse!

* In case you are distracted from my story by your curiosity, the doctor did not have any news, except to say “See you back here next week!”  with lots of confidence. So those of you eager for baby news, don’t hold your breath!