Basement Swimming Pool. No Movie Stars.

I'm on a basement break. Itchy eyes, burning lungs. (Sounds like a great film title... Maybe that's what I'll call my next poetry book.)

Last night, snuggled in with Beloved, A Pomegranate, and The Big Bang Theory... The Big Tall Boy knocks at the door.

"Uh, the basement is flooding."

Say wha?

Utility sink backed up when the laundry tried to drain. The kitchen sinks are also not draining properly. This has happened before.

So, after at least an hour of TBTB and I taking turns mopping, scooping out buckets of water from the utility sinks, running them up the stairs and throwing them out the back door, My beloved comes with a snake and a "One Second Plumber" from his parents house. All my efforts with the plunger did nothing.

Snake didn't work. And, we all got shot in the face with backed up water that came flying out of the laundry drainage pipe when we put the One Second Plumber gadget to work. (Poor sweetie got the worst of it, I think.) The absolute BEST however, was having to drag the cat litter box that had overflowed with water that had spilled over into it, out to the freezing cold yard at 10:30 or so. Maybe 11.

Yum. And Brr.

Lots of stuff got wet. Lots of stuff has been thrown out. I'm feeling whelmed, and the world weighs heavy on me in this moment. My "studio" is supposed to be down there, but today I feel like giving up. There's no room for the girls to play with toys, between the shipping boxes, the stuff in bins listed on etsy, all my crafting stuff, laundry, the guinea pigs huge cage, and the CRAP. It's an unfinished basement. So uncomfortable, despite all my efforts and optimism.

Today, I've been going through it all, but it's hard for me to be down there for more than 10 minutes without exploding. My eyes are itchy (I changed the Squeakers bedding today. That didn't help. I've got the air purifier running, the dehumidifier running, and my clock radio to block out the noise of both.) We need to move. I don't want to get manic over this. I also don't want to QUIT. Quit all of it. Quitting at creating, painting, sewing clears the house off tons of stuff, but will surely leave me picking my cuticles in agitation.

I checked my ING direct account on one of my basement breaks. Watching it's balance rise makes me happier. I found out I got accepted for the trial version of their no fee chequing account, so I set that up. I had to call a customer service rep to ask a question, and he suggested their tax free savings account, explained it all to me, and I switched that over too.

My plan is to close my regular banking chequing account, as it runs me $13, and earns me NO interest. It might take a few months to make sure everything is running smoothly with all my direct debits and all, but the whole thing has lightened my mood.

And given me a chance to have a tea, and rest my itchy eyeballs, before heading back down there.