I Am Woman

I came home last week after a weekend away to find my toilet not working. As you might imagine, my very first thought was: "You have got to be kidding me." Off came the lid to the tank and I began to do some investigating. I figured out what was wrong quickly enough and put in a phone call to my landlord...who informed me when he answered the phone that he was in the process of boarding a plane and wouldn't be home until next week.

Awesome.

In moments past, I would have called my Dad, begging him to send his handy-man expertise through the telephone. But I had just come back to the city after a weekend in the woods, in a very rural part of Vermont. The woods-loving country girl living inside me was at her most-keen and aware. "I can handle this on my own," I told myself. No problem.

So off to Home Depot I went. After spending a solid 30 minutes wandering through the store looking for a salesperson ("You can do it, we can help" only works if YOU CAN ACTUALLY FIND SOMEONE TO HELP YOU, Home Depot.) I found the piece I was looking for in the plumbing section. Back home, I took a deep breath, pulled out my toolbox and grabbed a wrench. "How hard can this actually be?" I thought. (Though I must admit, I kept the phone within arm's reach just in case - aware that the need for handyman pep talk from my Dad could strike at anytime.) But do you know, in 20 minutes, I had the whole thing fixed? For once in my apartment repair history I did everything right the first time and it all worked like a charm. And a week later it's *still* working.

Hear me roar.