No Hot Water

The curse of our block has struck this side of the driveway. 

It came as a text message from my downstairs neighbour yesterday morning. It appears someone finally looked into the faint gas smell you'd occasionally detect in the stairwell.

"Hey Pand, they've shut off the hot water. It seems whoever did the recent repairs botched it and we're lucky the whole thing didn't blow up."

Joy. 

When you think about it, we're spoiled. Generations, eons even, have done without hot water. I know that my grandparents would have had to manually heat water daily for bathing and other household jobs. 

We've just gone soft. I've gone soft. The hot water in this flat has always been good and reliable. There was no notice that the hot water service might blow up the units. 

Regardless, it's been over 24 hours since we've had hot water in the flat. I've got very good at boiling the kettle. The dicky bird bath, as my mother used to call it, has become my best friend.

Thankfully, it's not too cold at the moment. Filling up the bathroom sink with hot water, give yourself a sponge bath, when quickly rinse off with the cold before giving yourself a wipe over with the last of the warm water. It's not ideal, but it does the job. 

There's always a shower at the gym. 

I might be able to bum a shower off friends. 

We've just received the following from the body corporate: 

So, there's nine flats without hot water. Mine is one of them. 

Speaking to the downstairs neighbour, it once this has all passed the committee, this probably isn't going to happen until sometime next week. 

I just have to remind myself that I'm lucky to be off work, I have an active gym membership, understanding friends and a working kettle. Also, as a tenant, I don't have to pay for this. 

I tell myself it's a first world problem. But an annoying one, for somebody who normally showers twice a day. 

Today's song: