Well, awesome humans, grab your popcorn and safety goggles: our greatest arch-nemesis has returned for the trilogy nobody asked for.
Some of you might recall the dark ages when the studio was shut down for nearly a year due to catastrophic plumbing nightmares, courtesy of a shady “plumber” who swindled us, vanished into thin air, and left us stranded in plumbing purgatory. We eventually took matters into our own hands, re-plumbed the supply lines ourselves, and proudly reclaimed our creative haven.
Then came round two: a crack in an ancient cast iron sewage pipe. Naturally, Klee and I channeled our inner demolition crew and completely pulverized the wrong wall before actually locating the offending pipe. A real plumbing crew finally came out, patched the thing, and we thought the plumbing demons had been officially exorcised.
Narrator voice: The plumbing demons had not been exorcised.
It’s leaking again. Inside the wall.
The cosmic irony? Just this week, our friends were using our shower while their plumbing was being repaired. Almost the exact second their pipes were sorted out, the plumbing gods evidently looked around, saw a vacuum of domestic despair, and pointed directly at our studio wall. A slow, steady, unmistakable trickle.
Which brings us to the immediate practical crisis: we cannot shower. So, if you had plans to swing by and visit us in person this week… maybe don’t. Give us a wide berth. Appreciate us from a safe, downwind distance.
Look, I’ve gotten pretty handy over the years, and I can tackle modern PEX and PVC with the best of them. But century-old, cracked cast iron sewage lines packed with generations of old poop? Absolutely not. That is cursed, biohazardous sorcery, and I know when to wave the white flag before we accidentally knock down more wrong walls, or unleash a century of vintage poop trying to find the culprit.
Naturally, the universe decided the ideal timing for this would be smack in the middle of a wildly busy work week, landing squarely on the heels of what we affectionately call our “Financially Draining Month.” Because of course it did.
Still, Klee and I are keeping our spirits up. We’ve called in the pros, and they’ll be here tomorrow morning to inspect the damage and hand us an estimate. Keep your fingers, toes, and paintbrushes crossed for us that it’s a quick, painless fix rather than an archeological excavation.
If things go sideways, don’t be surprised if our upcoming holiday virtual sale features a brand-new exclusive collection titled: “Buy This Art So Rafi and Klee Can Take a Hot Shower.”
We’ll know our fate tomorrow morning. Until then, send good vibes and easy fixes our way… and maybe some dry shampoo for Klee.
