I’m on a sleep regimen.  No messing around this time.   I have a lot of crap to deal with and I need to do it without being sleep deprived.   Sleep deprivation is a form of torture —  of mind control, right?   (We all saw the third Bourne, it can drive you to kill.)   I haven’t  slept on a regular basis in years.   This week I have been  making a point  of going to bed at a decent hour.  No television, no computer, no phone.   I’m also taking a very mild sleeping pill.   I have a low tolerance for sleeping pills,  however, they put me seriously out,  and I’m often groggy the next day, even  though I’ve allowed myself the  full eight hours of sleep recommended.   Consequently,  I take a low dose and break it in half.  Still, two nights ago, it didn’t work well.  I had trouble falling asleep with the half pill.   So last night, I figured I’d take a whole low-dose pill.

All of my night-time routine work was done, i.e. dishwasher was running, instrument had been played, kids were in their rooms, dogs had been out and were back in.   It was all good.  Sleeping pill taken.   Then,

“MOM!!!!!”

“What?!!!!!!!!!”  (I’d like to say I said, “Yes, Sweetie,” but I don’t think that was the case.)

“I CLOGGED THE TOILET!!!!!”

Swearing in my head commences.   We’d just had a bad experience with this about a month ago, hereinafter known as “The Last Clogging Incident.”   It was not pretty.

You should know that I hate plungers.   I hadn’t bought  one for this  new old house (except for the first few days, we didn’t have a working toilet here anyway in so it was unnecessary . . .  but I digress).    I hate plungers  because although they serve a useful purpose,  I despise cleaning them afterward.  It’s just one of my things.  My usual method of unclogging is to pour water down the toilet, quickly, to “flush” out the obstruction.   Often this must be done multiple times, but it works, it’s less messy and less smelly.     During The Last Clogging Incident,  however, it did not work.  There was no plunger in the house and it was after midnight.  Suffice it to say, I have a plunger now.

Back to last night,  the hour wasn’t as late as The Last Clogging Incident, and I now own a plunger,   BUT I HAD TAKEN A WHOLE SLEEPING PILL!!!!     If I had a strong reaction to it, I would be a stumbling idiot in a few minutes.   If not, and I simply attempted to override it, I would be cursed with a blinding headache.   Plus, two kids had to use the bathroom.   The “clog-her” was content in her bed, reading on her Kindle.    grrrr    Still, I had one on deck and one in the hole.   The drug would soon take effect, and  I, too,  had to go to the bathroom.   (As a result of prior medical/emotional issues, if I don’t go to the bathroom right away when nature calls, I become nauseated).   Oh, did I mention we only have one bathroom in a house with 5 girl-type people and one boy?

It was a race against time.   But since The Last Clogging Incident — when we ran out to a convenience store to use the bathroom just to buy time for me to figure out what to do and stave off my nausea — I had gained some knowledge.   It is amazing what a simple Google search will yield.    I had searched then for  “How to unclog a toilet without a plunger.”   I found the following.   I do not claim ownership, authorship, or creative input.    In short, I did not invent this method, but I pass it on.

Squeeze liquid dish detergent into the toilet.

Boil water.

Wait.

Slowly pour boiling water into toilet.

Wait.

Repeat.

The theory is that the soap lubricates the mass (ew) allowing it to pass more quickly and the boiling water breaks it up.  All of this is safe for your commode — unlike using chemicals (which neither I nor the convenience store had anyway).

Last night  I chose to use a variation.   Liquid soap, hot, but not boiling water.   I couldn’t wait for the boil, wanted to avoid the plunger.  After a while — it worked.   Two kids used the bathroom (before me, of course, I ignored the  airline face mask on the adult first mantra).

After the second kid used it,

“MOM!!!!! THE TOILET’S CLOGGED AGAIN!!!!!”    (The cursing in my head resumed also.)   Time was not on my side, I was already feeling woozy and nauseated.

This time I got the plunger, the soap,  and hot water (still couldn’t wait for boil).   It took some work.   (Note to self:  add more fruit to kids’ diets).  One kid helped (as I stood back, letting the wall hold me up, pinching my nose closed).  But this was the kid responsible for The Last Clogging Incident, so I felt no compassion.

“It smells, Mommy.”

“I know.”

But finally,  the sound of a flushing toilet.  Twice for good luck.  Thrice — well, for me.   The plunger was rinsed, wrapped in a plastic trash bag and still sits on my back deck.   I went to bed.   I slept.   I feel like crap today.   I will only take a half a sleeping pill tonight.   Still, I am triumphant.   I am strong.  I am invincible, I am . . .

Just Me With . . .  a plunger on my porch and a half of a sleeping pill with my name on it.