The Monday Fail (or Score) is a beginning-of-the-week assessment of what I did or did not accomplish on and around my house over the weekend. TMF revisits projects introduced (usually during a mad fit of ambition, after work, over beers) in its unofficial prequel, The Friday Plan.
(The Monday Fail, a motivational tool, is not intended for use by those with excellent time management skills or who respond well to positive reinforcement.)
My goals for the past weekend: Make garbage disposal and dishwasher work, because the kitchen is starting to stink.
A thing about me: When faced with an unpleasant task that can be procrastinated, I will procrastinate. And procrastinate. Once that initial procrastination drags on long enough, though, I am eventually compelled to construct absurd superstitions to justify my continued lassitude.
“If I attempt to complete said task that I’ve been putting off forever,” I tell myself, “then X, which is awful, will certainly happen, and I simply can’t handle that right now.” The X factor can be spiders, electrocution or vacuuming; the point is it’s something that scares me enough that continued inertia seems like the only rational course of action.
I fried the garbage disposal immediately after moving into the house in late July, by flipping the switch above the sink to turn it on. I assumed it was a motor problem, based on the smoke and the smell, but the friend who helped me swap out the old appliance for a brand new one posited that the problem could be with the electrical line or outlet. Something we’d done had caused the breaker to flip, for no apparent reason.
“It could be dangerous,” is what I’m pretty sure my friend said, which was all it took for me to forgo use of both the appliances fed by that electrical line for nearly a month.
A thing about garbage disposals: If you don’t periodically fire ‘em up and engage the blades, they’re essentially an open-top compost pile moldering in the middle of your kitchen. When the fruit flies started showing up in my bedroom, I knew it was time to act. On Sunday, after a long pep talk and three episodes of “Breaking Bad,” I steeled my nerves, went outside and hit the breaker – listening through the open window for any signs of distress from within the house.
Assuming I’m not on some kind of delayed superstition pay-back plan, all went smoothly. The world did not end. I now have a working dishwasher and garbage disposal, and a mostly-clean kitchen that currently does not smell of rot.
Sometimes, fixing a thing truly is as easy as hitting a button. So long as you don’t count the prep time.
NOTE: It is possible for The Monday Fail to post to this blog on a Tuesday, possibly even a Wednesday. You know, because of spiders.