I'm wearing a new scent today: Eau de Clorox. Smells like I just stepped out of the deep end of a municipal swimming pool.
In fact, my whole house smells like that--for good reason. The well guys finally came back yesterday to do the final repairs on our well, get the water flowing to the apartment out at the garage, test the water, and dump a few jugs of Clorox down the well to sanitize the whole thing. "You don't want to do any laundry until that Clorox smell goes away," they said, and I decided this morning that maybe I should hold off also on washing my hair. (I've got enough streaks already, thank you very much.)
I knew the minute I drove up the driveway that the well guys had returned because their truck was gone. Last week they left behind a few odds and ends of tools and equipment plus a big red truck with drill rig attached, and the truck still sat there Monday and Tuesday, which seemed odd. I mean, a well guy might forget where he'd left that pipe wrench, but who forgets to retrieve a truck?
But it turns out that they had a really good excuse for delaying their return: the chief well guy suffered some kind of heart problem over the weekend. Apparently our cranky and incomprehensible well caused stressed for more people than just us. But now he's back in action and his truck is no longer parked in our driveway and the water is running and the whole house reeks of Clorox--but I'm willing to accept a little Eau de Clorox in exchange for clean, convenient running water.