And Now The House Is Falling Apart

All I wanted to do was wash the dishes that are piling up.  And all I did was fill up the bowl with hot water so I could clean those dishes.  That's all I wanted to do.

When my parents left, I noticed that, when I turned off the water to the kitchen faucet, the water didn't completely, you know, stop.  It leaked a bit.  I thought that was a pain-in-the-ass because I could see and hear the drips coming for seconds after I supposedly it off.  But I could deal with it.

However, just now I let it run for a minute to fill up that bowl so I could get to cleaning dishes.  Then, I went downstairs to ... well, I ran water upstairs, and I'm scared as hell that there will be a water leak down there, and I hadn't checked down there yet today because I was at the Vikings Game, so my paranoid self went downstairs.  I turned on the lights, but then ... I heard something, like a -- dripping.  That's when I looked up at the ceiling.  It was dripping water -- not buckets, but a steady drip-drip, and I estimate right below where the kitchen sink is.  Fuck me.

I think it's stopped now.  But I can't see myself using the kitchen sink again.  Not only do I need it to clean dishes, I plan on making spaghetti soon, and that uses water.  Well, shit, man, I am going to have to compromise and do what I just did, which was go downstairs to the laundry/mud room.  I rinsed the dishes I could wash down there.  The water is the same, and yet it seems ... dirty down there, you know what I mean?  I cannot really get washing food and gunk off of dishes in an area dedicated to clothes.  The water coming out of the laundry room sink ... maybe is not the same as the water coming out of the kitchen sink -- that's what my mind believes.

Also, it is weird to look at dishes and yet smell ocean scent fabric softener, you know?  But that is where my dishes are drying.  And that is, until I get tired of it, I am going to wash my dishes and fill up a pot of water for my pasta.  Like the smart entry indicator light going on (it has not come on since, however) or the damn noises coming from the refrigerator, of course these goddamn things would all start to break down on me as soon as my folks go.  And all of these things only heighten my anxiety about leaving all of them to see my parents on vacation.  More and more, that seems like a bad idea.