I don't need water to write, right? That's what I keep telling myself as I postpone starting on the next stage of my writing project while waiting for the plumber to arrive and fix the well pump. We haven't had running water at our house since Saturday night, but the lack of water really should not prevent me from getting down to work. Right?
In fact, the lack of water ought to open up extra time since it prevents me from doing so many other things: cleaning the house, washing dishes, doing laundry, showering. (I haven't washed my hair since Friday. You don't want to know what it looks like.) Yesterday we did our annual Memorial Day putting-in-the-garden thing, which was impeded by the need to haul water out of the cistern and carry it down to the garden in buckets. We're also using cistern water for flushing the toilets but you wouldn't want to bathe in the cistern water or, worse yet, drink it. It's kind of green. In a pinch we could boil some, but we have five-gallon jugs full of drinking water so it's not an emergency. Yet.
And now look at those dark clouds rolling in! If we get a hard rain, I'm taking my shampoo outside and washing my hair. (Which I clearly can't do while writing. Right?)
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