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A Bad Dream (And a stressful reality)


 Last night the stress manifested as a dream.


When you live in the country you learn to depend on the sound.

Note: Probably no more than anyone else, but we country folks use statements like this to pretend we have mythical powers of observation.

We get used to the regular sounds of the furnace, the refrigerator, and the septic pump, and know when things are not working they should.

I hadn't heard the septic pump cut in for a long time and on Monday morning I went outside and checked the tank.

Full.

Crap!

Literally.


I called the plumber, but he wasn't able to come immediately. I pumped out some of the liquid to give us enough room for basic septic deposits, and waited.

And waited.

And texted.

"I will be there first thing in the morning."

"We will survive."

 

No later than 8 AM is "first thing in the morning" for me.

11:24 for plumbers I guess

Hey, I was happy to have him.

I couldn't maintain any kind of decent sleep Monday night. The stress kept me waking up every hour. It also kept my stomach churning all morning, and into the afternoon, until the plumber informed me that my problem was solved and expect a bill.

"Thank you Sir."

 

Except.

I waited. I showered. I did laundry. My gut rolled and rolled. My septic pump did not cut in. I went to bed. No pump.

"It should have cut in by now."

It didn't

Finally, my exhausted brain allowed me to fall into a worried sleep.

And then, the dream.

 

I was puppy sitting a friends little ball of fluff. For some reason I took the puppy into a barn. I turned my head for just a second and the puppy disappeared.

"Puppy" I yelled.

A dozen puppies came out from under the straw. A dozen but not the pup I was looking for.

"Puppy!"

A dozen kittens came out of the straw.

"Not you."

"Puppy, where are you?" 

A dozen huskies came out from under the straw. My charge was gone. Long gone.

And I woke up in a cold sweat and panic.

"I lost the puppy. What will I tell them."


Of course then I realized it was just a dream.

"Whew!"

Then I remembered the pump.

"Crap!"


The pump, to my relief, cut in this morning.

The new float switch must be set different than the old one, and doesn't cut in as often.

My heart is still flipping from the stress of the last 48 hours, but at least I know the septic pump is doing it's job. 

And I will create an end to my dream.

Santa brought the puppy back to me before my friends came to pick it up.

"Thanks Santa. See you Christmas Eve!" 

 

The End

 


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