“A sword never kills anybody; it is a tool in the killer’s hand” – Lucius Annaeus Seneca
Last night, I murdered my radiator. Unknowingly, I might add. But I killed it anyway. Things just… often seem to break when I touch them, even if there was no harm intended.
I just remembered I also managed to break a glass ornament when I started working for a new client this Monday… At least he didn’t mind. Hmhm, so far, it’s been a good week for me break-wise.
Anyway, back to the radiator.
The saddest part is, it’s situated right next to my bed. Or better, my bed is placed directly in front of it. It’s a classic heating system, meaning there is a knob I can switch left and right to regulate the heat coming from it, or to switch it off. Which is what I was doing yesterday evening before I went to bed, and that’s when I, unknowingly, killed my radiator.
When turning the knob/handle/switch/thingy I felt a droplet of water coming from it but I didn’t pay a lot of attention to it because this happened before and it was never more than a single droplet. I told my father about this a few times and he was willing to fix it, but only if the weather was good (?? – He seems to put a lot of importance on the weather as this is his number one excuse for postponing maintenance chores). This basically means I had to give up for now and raise the subject again sometime during Summer (read: during the five good days the Netherlands have and which we refer to as the Summer season) and force my dad to Fix. The. Darn. Thing.
Turns out, he’s got to fix it now.
Last night I woke up after rolling over and catching something wet in my bed with my foot. My first thought was: “Oh no, did I pee in my bed?”, which was quickly followed by my second thought: “I can’t pee from my toes” (very sharp I was indeed), and a third, more awake one: “Why the f*ck is my bed wet!?”
I switched on my light and found the entire right corner of my bed, where my feet rest, to be soaking wet. The entire corner! That’s TWO duvets (I have an extra one for winter), the cover, the mattress, the pillow I keep under my mattress to stimulate my blood circulation, and, of course, the bed itself.
This time, it didn’t stop with just the one droplet, but instead the darn switch had been leaking ALL NIGHT!
And so typical that things like these ALWAYS happen right after you’ve changed your covers and made your bed!
Even though I was definitely very sleep-drunk I managed to wrap a towel around the leaking bastard and place another one in my bed, covering the wet part. It was 3 AM and I was not in the mood to change my bed sheets or put all the wet stuff into the dryer.
In the morning I placed a bucket under the knob, because it was still leaking and the towel I had wrapped around it during the night was already soaked, too:
I later learned that because my radiator was leaking, this meant the water level of the general heating system in our entire house was low as well. So not only did I manage to wet my bed (pun intended), I also managed to kill the general heating system in our entire home. It simply stopped working properly and left us cold and shivering.
Needless to say me and my mum went out for lunch.
And left my father a note. He’s got the leaking stopped and the water level is back to normal, so we’re all warm and cosy again.
You know, this whole killing my radiator thing makes me rethink my “it’s a good thing I am not a psychopath”-statement. Maybe I am a psycho after all! Maybe I just don’t know it yet! Maybe, here comes another pun, maybe it’s just killer instinct and I simply can’t help myself!
Well, whatever it is that’s next on my subconscious hit list, I hope I won’t slay it at night again. I am too fond of my sleep to give that up for anything. Even killing stuff.