When it rains, it pours. And water seeps in behind the liner of your pool and gives you a coronary attack big enough to kill a 400 pound man. That's how my day began today.
I fret over the pool. My husband would tell you different, but that's because he is neurotic, and no one - and I mean NO ONE - would ever be able to keep the pool in the pristine shape in which he wants it kept. So, I fret over the pool under my terms. I make sure the pump is set on the timer and will be on at the appropriate times. I do all the day to day things that need to be done - checking the skimmer baskets, emptying the Polaris bag (except here lately because it is still out of commission), skimming out scary bugs when the kids are swimming. You get the drill - I keep up the pool on a day to day basis. Does that mean it is always free from any debris in the bottom? No. Does that mean I don't occasionally forget to empty out the skimmer baskets on a leave free day? No. But I do something with the pool every single day of my life with the exception of Sunday because the neurotic fretter is home and able to take it off my hands for that one day.
One of the many things I have fretted about over the past two years I have had with the pool is the water level. During many a storm, I have donned my attractive rain coat and sprinted to the back of the yard to drain water out of the pool. On particularly stormy days, I may make three trips out there in the pouring rain with lightening and thunder and the works. So this morning, when I went outside to drain the water back down to its normal level, I was HORRIFIED to see huge bubbles on the sides of the pool. HORRIFIED.
All I could think was thousands of dollars. Thousands in repairs. Thousands in replacement costs for the liner. Thousands. Thousands we just frankly don't have to spare right now. I stood there at the source of so much daily fret and maintenance and thought I would vomit. I really thought I would surely vomit right there into the pool. I stood there and looked at it thinking it might just be one of those optical illusions. But it wasn't.
So I shared the news with my husband as he poured his morning coffee. There really were no words shared between us. Just a look we both understood. Please, not this; not now.
The good news is this - Scott was able to reach our pool guy and get some instructions on what to do. With today being the last day of the month, Scott had no choice but to go to work. My neighbor was so helpful and kind enough to come over and assist (or really, take over, as I didn't really have the upper body strength to do what needed to be done). And he was able to get the majority of the water pushed up and out from behind the liner. I think we are at a salvageable state now, and those thousands are quickly ticking back down into affordable range. Thank goodness.
I think I am just done being an adult. I am officially throwing in my towel. And I think I'll just throw it in the pool.