Confession

Oh. Dear. Lord.

Why do I feel like my life is mostly one long episode of the Lucille Ball show?

I really cannot believe what I have done now. You will not believe this.

I have managed to shut down all the men's restrooms on the top 3 floors of my building.

Yes, I am TOTALLY serious.

It seemed like an innocuous action at the time...

Yesterday, I was cleaning out the refrigarator in the kitchen/copy and fax room of our office. I had dish in the fridge that had six-day-old brisket from Smokey Bones in it. (Which, surprisingly enough, still looked edible. But, I was not about to eat six day old brisket, nor was I going to haul it home with me in my lunch box.)

(The reason I was doing something like cleaning the fridge when I am in fact paid to do things like foreclose on homes and get people divorced, is because I could not be trusted to handle any of those things yesterday, and, the fridge was gross.)

It seemed to me that the logical thing was to put the meat in the garbage disposal of the sink. (No, I don't know why there is a garbage disposal in a kitchen/copy room on the 22nd floor of an office building. But, it's there.)

Apparently...that was a bad move.

Because, apparently...this clogged the sink.

And, apparently, the clogged drain backed up into the men's room on our floor...and the floor above...and the floor below.

There is, reportedly, a disgusting "gray-upchuck-like-goo" now covering every sink in all three men's rooms.

And there is a man on his back with his feet against our copy machine, with his head under the sink, banging on our pipes and swearing.

And I must confess that there is a VERY BAD SMELL that is VAGUELY REMINISCENT of beef brisket wafting up from the sink area.

I don't know how I get myself in this situations. I really don't.

And I am NOT about to tell ANYBODY HERE that I was the one who put the beef brisket in the garbage disposal. No way.

ARGH!