I’ve been doing a lot of backflow tests recently, but three came up that belong to my day job. Of course, I did them because I need the practice anyway, but I couldn’t charge for them due to conflict of interest things. I wouldn’t want to make a few bucks just to lose my job.

Two were straightforward, even if one was very large, but when I was doing the third this afternoon, I ran into some problems. I mean besides the red ant nest living in the pipe insulation.

I started to check the test ports, and found that some bonehead had put a plug in one that I needed, but there was still a valve in one that I was less likely to need. I also had to take the unit completely apart to clean out the crud clogging it up, so I popped the union and flipped it over.

Trouble was, the valve I needed was on the upstream side of the first shutoff valve, with no others in sight. Now, I am by no means a plumber, so in my vast ignorance, I thought if I moved real fast, I could get the plug installed in the whole while the water was shooting out.

Yeah, not so much.

I should know better. I mean, I am one of the operators, and I know damn well that the pressure in the lines is about 50 psi, and velocity increases when the pipe diameter decreases. And this was only a quarter-inch hole.

Oops.

I let the water gush after soaking myself trying to stuff this tiny little plug into the geyser. I called the water guy to get him to shut of the main for me, but then I had a brain flash. What if I opened the bigger valve and let the water waste out that way to lower the pressure?

Fortunately, that worked, and I got my plug installed and called off the water guys before they came out to point fingers and laugh. I think I filled up one of my boots before I got it fixed, but at least it’s a nice day.

And I had the most fun I’ve had in months, working with my hands and getting soaking wet.

I haven’t been writing much because even I got tired of the “waah, poor me” theme that was running through my thoughts. Sometimes you just don’t want to think about it, y’know?

So I’m chugging along, learning to live again. There’s a big hole in my life, but I think I’m starting to patch myself up around it. I don’t think the hole will ever completely fill in, but maybe I can put some of the pieces around it back together.

I have an appointment with a counselor next week, but I’m starting to wonder if I need it. I do need to either get off the antidepressants or get an actual prescription so I don’t have to quit cold turkey, which I understand is bad news, but I just don’t feel like diving back into all of those emotions right now. I’d rather just let it die its death. But I’ll go anyway and see if it helps.

Life’s been going on. It’s easier when I have the kids to distract me. Seamus is playing coach-pitch baseball this year, and he really likes it. I’m going to try to start going to his games even if I don’t have custody, but the combination of the ulcer and the other meds has left me feeling so physically crappy that I haven’t made it yet.

The games I’ve gone to have been really fun though. His team is really good, and for the first time, he’s not the worst player. Not the best either, no, but he has a lot of fun. On Saturday, he had a hit and his team made a really awesome double play. Our coaches are pretty good, and not into yelling at the kids like they’re pro players—some of the other coaches in the league get carried away. I knew we had a good team when I saw one of the coaches come up and ask his wife if he was getting too loud.

Little League is funny like that. They seem to be making a conscious effort to stay away from the stereotype, but it comes out sometimes anyway. There’s an enormously fat father of one of the kids who’s just nasty to his son. I’ve never heard him say anything supportive to the kid, and the poor guy doesn’t have half the fun that most of the kids on the team do. In fact, I heard his father threaten to give another son a whipping because he lost track of his two-year old brother. Uh, dude? You’re the adult here, why aren’t you getting off your ass and watching your toddler? You expect a six-year old to do it? Ugh.

Fortunately, that guy seems to be the only real asshole among the parents. All of the rest of them seem pretty nice, and I wasn’t the only one cheering when a kid on the other team made a great catch of a fly ball at Wednesday’s game.