The Nose Knows

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Let me issue you a warning, my dears. This post is not for the faint of stomach.

Ever since I moved in my bathroom has smelled of mold.

Nothing drastic, but if the window by the shower isn’t perpetually cracked, it starts to smell musky. Which is great considering all the exposed and compromised positions you find yourself in within a bathroom, and especially when the temperature at night sometimes reaches 33°F.

I couldn’t really find the source of the smell at first, so I put my concern on the back burner so I could more readily tackle matters of greater importance like the water dying my hair rust-colored, since its hardness level was 460% above SD averages. #ColdBucketShowerSolutions

I also noticed the shower drain didn’t seem to work properly, backing up only a minute after running the water, and spilling onto the floor outside the stall, and traveling along the walls, which I assumed was contributing to the overall mildewy smell of which my bathroom boasted. So the on/off faucet game quickly became a thing.

Deep down, I knew what I had to do. I was just procrastinating as long as possible. Besides, I still had to unpack, and get settled, and do x, y, z…

A while back I just plugged my nose and pulled the lever, rhetorically speaking. Although, it’s not too far off from what I actually had to do. I bleached the hell out of every nook and cranny of the bathroom, finding all those little places that spores may have decided to call home. Then, with intrepid heart, and rubber-gloved hands, I removed the shower drain cover. As bad as it smelled and repulsive as it looked I knew it was about to get worse. Especially considering that everything down there probably didn’t belong to me.

After removing the easy stuff (sediment build up, and a razor blade cover? How did they even manage that? It’s literally bigger than all the holes of the drain…) it was time to go deeper. I didn’t have pipe cleaners, or any wires or cables to go fishing down there with, but I did have an ample supply of tinder for my wood stove. So I found a stick long enough, thin enough, and sturdy enough not to break off midway-down which would make the whole problem worse, and dove in.

Oh. My. Gosh.

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The colors, smells, and mucus-like texture of what I pulled out was enough to foster a new-found respect and appreciation for every plumber in the industry forever. (Seriously y’all. I yanked other people’s slimy, knotted, rank, discolored, dirt-and-mold covered hair — etc? — out of the plumbing while having my nostrils violated by ungodly smells for only one afternoon – you all do it every day for a living. Hats off to you, plumbers.)

Don’t worry though, this story ends on a happy note: although it didn’t cure the overall musk of the bathroom, at least I’m not standing ankle deep in other people’s backed up dead skin cells and calcium build ups.

P.S.) This story also ends in a cliffhanger: the next war I will be waging is against the ever-encroaching rodent forces bold enough to issue me challenge by leaving cryptic hints in every room corner of their presence in my home.

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