Tuesday afternoon I slept as late as possible before crawling out of my nice warm bed and stumbling into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and eat a cookie. Then I packed up my meals and snacks for work, and finally, with just 20 minutes left before I had to go to work, I turned on the shower.
And nothing happened.
Oh crap, I forgot to pay the water bill. Wait....no, I didn't. And the tap in the kitchen worked when I needed water for the coffeemaker.
I tried the sink in the bathroom. Nada.
Huh. That's weird. I'll just take a shower in the other bathroom.
So I went in there and cranked the hot water tap. Zilch. The sink didn't work either.
Uh oh. I had a sneaking suspicion as to the cause, since it was about 12 degrees outside and the wind chill was like 15 below zero. Yup, frozen pipes. So I went to work without a shower and worried all night that the pipes would burst sometime during the 14 hours that I was gone. On the way home I worried about what to do, because the access to those pipes--the bathrooms are pretty much back-to-back at the rear of the house--is in a dirt crawlspace that's about 18 inches high. The last time I needed to get in that crawlspace I saw a giant spider and couldn't bring myself to go back in there, so I paid a crackhead named BooBoo 25 bucks to shimmy through the crawlspace pulling electrical wire behind him. I think BooBoo is dead now, so that's not an option.
By the time I got home Wednesday morning, I'd fretted myself into quite a state over this whole thing.
So I walked into the bathroom, turned the shower, and a whole bunch of icy cold rusty gross water sorta belched out. I left it running until the water ran clear and did the same thing with the bathroom sink and also the sink and the shower in the other bathroom. This might be the only time in the whole history of my house that something just fixed itself and I didn't have to do anything.
And just when you got that song (in the post title) out of your heads:
Stop. Collaborate and listen.