How was your weekend? Great, I hope. For those of you who don’t know, I took a bit of time off for some long-needed unplugging-and-recharging (of me, not my gizmos). Oh. Right. Folks call that “rest and relaxation.”
As a rabbit trail, isn’t it strange how “unplugging” is applied to people, nowadays? It’s like we’re already machines, 100% of the way (oops, there’s a free idea, and it’s not even Triple F day).
I also plan to post about a lot of things that I learned DURING all that unplugging (I might also embed the first picture or two here at Fiction and Copy Decoded, too. Not sure yet).
All right, enough of that. Let’s get to it.
Our landlord scheduled the Culligan man to come out to check on our water system (the kind you throw huge bags of salt into).
The guy did all kinds of checking, and even replaced a part. But the first thing he did was walk up to the panel, and uh…
TURN IT ON.
Yeah, I know. But I was clueless. He said if the electricity goes out, and the clock of the unit’s not reset, the thing won’t do anything. Nothing at all.
And here, I’d been putting salt in the thing for YEARS. Found out I’d never actually USED the water filter system in the house.
What’s supposed to happen is that the resin inside the tank thing cleans the water before it goes to the rest of the pipes in the house. Then another tank feeds salted water into the filtering doohickey, and that’s how it cleans itself.
Then it spits the water out. And there’s a small tank of resin stuff that drips into the unit to give it cleaning supplies to work with. And the clock needs to be reset to make sure that the unit cleans itself at 2 a.m. once every three days—in addition to actually doing filtering work.
And none of that was happening, while I was throwing the salt into the thing—even though the water would evaporate the salt.
Oh, and I guess those pellets (that look like big pills) are a bad idea. The Culligan guy said they get partially dissolved in the bottom of the tank, and then they can stick together. Big mess.
Okay…so besides me wasting hundreds of pounds of salt feeding a non-working appliance, what’s the deal?
A couple things.
The most important thing I learned is I don’t know everything. Yeah, I know you know that one already. And sure, that lesson has popped up on me.
But I would have had no clue (and we wouldn’t have a working water softener/filter thing now) if somebody hadn’t actually TOLD us anything about it, and showed us how to run it (which is a subject for another post, just like the water guy’s case full of strange liquids, droppers, and bottles).
Secondly, (and most important for you fiction writers and copywriters out there), is just because something is a certain way NOW, doesn’t mean it has to be that way FOREVER. If you’re not dead, you can read this (and if you are, and you ARE reading, I may have to interview you).
Not to be cruel, unfeeling, or a fool here. If you have breath in your body, you can try to change things. You can WANT to change them.
Especially if it’s writing-related. If it’s a character, plot, product idea, or what-have-ya, you can develop them, change them, save them. And if something doesn’t work, you can try something else.
Sometimes it’s hard to even consider changing—because it involves a shakeup of routine, confronting the unknown, and about a dozen other things I have to admit I usually don’t like (on the hook for another post on that subject, too).
But a lot of times, change can be better. Just like a bright future.
Or like not drinking rusty water out of your faucet, because your countertop filter doesn’t work right. You didn’t know what to do about the rusty beverage, but now, because the huge filter in the basement is fixed, most of the rust will be gone—no countertop filter needed.
Or maybe that’s just me, realizing that getting a bad thing fixed, is just that good.
Until next time,