‘I’ll be honest folks, I’ve never seen anything like that before.’
Our plumber scratched himself as he looked at the mess our bathroom had become – tiles broken, pipes bursting through the walls, the floor half-collapsed underneath our gorgeous claw-foot bathtub.
‘Is it fixable?’ Bessie squeaked from by my side.
‘Whatya think?’ I asked him, eyes wide.
‘Is what fixable?’ he frowned, gesturing around the room. ‘I see at least four issues that would require a full-bathroom-remodel on their own.’
‘So can you do it?’ Bessie blinked at him from behind her gigantic glasses.
The plumber sighed, taking off his cap to rub his bald spot.
‘I’ll make some calls.’
He trundled off, phone in hand, and I turned to my wife with a weak grin.
‘See? It’s fixable!’
‘Ohh!’ she grumbled, smacking me weakly on the arm. ‘Tell that man that we need a new bathtub!’
‘The bath is fine,’ I frowned, puzzled. ‘It’s the only thing in here that survived.’
‘But everything else was destroyed because you’re too proud to get a bath tub conversion! Sydney is full of young people who can get in and out of baths easily – we aren’t them anymore!’
I sighed and kicked at a stray piece of tile.
‘Do you really think it’s come to that?’
She pointed at the hole in the roof and frowned harder than I’d ever seen a human face frown.
‘Yes. Yes I do.’
‘I just hate going down that road, you know? Once you install a simple bathtub safety modification for seniors, then you’re just one step away from having a chair to get up the stairs and a nurse to help feed you.’
Bessie’s face softened slightly and she came to stand next to me.
‘That’ll never happen,’ she said, stroking my arm. I smiled and patted her hand, gazing down into her eyes through those huge, huge glasses.
‘We don’t have stairs.’
I think there is something inside the drains at the front of my house. I’m not sure what it is but whatever it is has made my drains become blocked and I think it’s impacting the rest of my sewerage system too. I need to get a drain plumber out here as soon as possible to rectify the issue.
Hello, it’s me again. The girl who is struggling so much with being an adult that she spends days at a time crying, unable to pick up the phone and call a plumber even when she desperately needs one. It’s unfortunate that this is how I define myself and how people know me. I’m just the girl who can’t handle being anything other than a girl – I don’t want to be an adult. I don’t want to deal with the
The ferry dinged its final goodbye as it drifted down the harbour, disappearing into a thick layer of fog long before it could vanish behind the horizon. I waved, with no idea whether he could still see me or not, but quickly ran back to my car as the chill set in.



