The number of hours since our water supply line broke. While my dear, sweet, kind, wonderful, resourceful, and talented hubby has worked on it all day, the pipe keeps breaking farther and farther back beneath the loose retaining wall they put in this summer. And so here it is, 9:30 at night, and he is still digging in the pitch-black and freezing weather. Bless him.
The number of hours since anyone flushed a toilet. Or truly washed their hands. Or bathed. The sink is overflowing with dishes. The hampers are stuffed with an entire vacation's worth of dirty laundry. (Not that it matters much since the washer's still broken.)
Oh, and did I mention that our minivan is now resting in the parking lot of the Home Depot where it broke down?
I don't mean to whine, but we could sure use a turn of good fortune by tomorrow or the very latest next year. Life is getting pretty stinky around here!