Pee Down the Floor Drain and Bag Your Own Poo

Homeownership.  Most of the time, its pretty cool.  I can paint the walls absurd colors, rip up carpet, make holes in the walls with no landlord bringing me down. 

And, then, something really awful happens.  Like, say, the toilet is leaking.  Has been.  The bathroom floor is getting squishy.  We buy new flooring and new plywood.  We have two guys who have refurbished bathrooms before come over to teach us how--for free--no less..and then, while trying to disconnect the sink, one of the sink shut offs will not be shut off. 

The guys, reasonably, suggest we shut off the main valve to the house so we can continue gutting the bathroom to fix the floor and the toilet. 

Umm...that's a no-go.  Our main is scary looking. Like afraid to turn it scary.  Always has been. 

So the guys are like, well, whatever, let's just fix the leaky toilet then and worry about the floor later.

They drain the toilet and pull it out.  The seal is broken. Fine, expected that.  The housing it sits into is also broken, did not expect that.  There is no way to bolt a new housing to the floor because the floor is fucked...and no way to bolt the toilet to the floor because the floor is fucked.

There is no way to shut the water off to fix the floor, and we are back to the circle of suck.

They did try reseating the toilet with a new wax seal because, yep, it is our ONLY toilet.  This, of course, failed miserably, the toilet is no longer flush with the floor; there is an inch or an inch and a half gap between the toilet and the floor because it won't seat properly and also will still leak anyway. 

So, we no longer have a serviceable toilet.

Awesomesauce.

The only way to turn the water off is to have someone turn it off at the curb.  That someone has to be licensed and insured to do so because if that valve breaks, then we really are fucked. Badly. We won't have water, will serve prison time, and incur a huge bill besides. 

So I guess we have to investigate this during normal business hours, which, of course, we now both work.  I'm not even sure who to call.  A plumber? The city?  I really don't want to call the city because then they'll demand permits and inspections. I don't want to open that can of worms but will probably have no choice.  We do have an illegal pipe just so we can have a water supply.  Why its illegal, I have no idea, but the guy who rigged it, knew it was illegal.

So we are back to square one. Replumb. 

All because we wanted to do something seemingly simple. Fix a toilet and a floor.

Also, I am now peeing down the floor drain in the laundry room, and flushing the area with water because Jon is worried I'll be put on a sex offender list for peeing outside.  Living in the city sucks.

I even took dump over the floor drain, and picked it up like you would pick up after a dog, tied off a bag and such.

Why, oh, why aren't outhouses legal anymore?

I can just imagine someone asking if it is okay to use our bathroom.  Usually, I reply with an "of course, its over there" and point.  Now, I shall have to reply "No, but do feel free to pee down our floor drain.  If you have to do a number two, here's one of those little plastic baggies from the grocery store, please bag it and take it outside and give it a toss into the garbage can.  Thanks."

My life is sooooo glamorous.