Tuesday, January 12, 2016

Weebles Wobble, but I'm Not a Weeble

Well goddamnit. I just looked at the radar and it looks like it is going to rain again tonight. Today, for the third time, I re-did the patches in my swimming pool. I drained every last drop of water out of the pool over a week ago and patched the bottom of the pool where bits of the "Diamond Brite" had peeled away. That first time I patched it up, it rained like a bitch later that night, ruining my patch job. So I consulted the weatherman and re-patched it again. The weatherman lied. It poured rain a second time. Each time it rains, the deep end of the pool where the patches are needed, fills up with water a couple of feet deep. Anyway, I again drained the pool yesterday and waddled down into the deep end with my handy scraper. My intent was to dig out the damaged patches so that I could again re-patch. As I made my way down, one of the flip-flops that I was wearing on my feet flipped and I flopped. Down into the deep end of the swimming pool I went and I couldn't get up. Every time I tried to stand up, I rolled back down into the lower bowl of the pool, like a broken Weeble doll. Each time I rolled back down, it was accompanied by the word fuck being loudly repeated over and over again. Seriously, nobody came to my aid, not even my next door neighbor who I could hear putzing around on the other side of the fence. Not Mark who was laying in bed watching The View. I was going to have to get out on my own. After many failed attempts to remove myself from the deep end of the pool, I finally was able to drag myself, covered in smeared concrete patching material, back up into the shallow end.

I checked the weather. They said there was no rain in the forecast for the next two days, so I did the re-patch job today. Like I said, I just looked at the radar and there's a huge blob of rain heading this way. Sonofabitch.

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