Guess who fixed her running toilet?
That would be me!
It took three phone calls to my dad, a trip to Home Depot, a kind and very helpful (and patient) mustached stranger in the plumbing aisle
and a little liquid encouragement
but I fixed the toilet.
And I only got confused 37 times.
I consider that a success.
The man who came to my rescue at Home Depot was my plumbing angel. He reminded me of my dad (minus the mustache) because he was just as patient and helpful. It may seem stereotypical and maybe even slightly sexist, but when a chick is standing in the plumbing aisle confused by the fill valve choices in front of her, it's nice to have a knowledgeable plumber-man come to her rescue. I don't enjoy looking incapable, but sometimes, in situations such as these, I AM incapable.
Or, at least I thought I was. So far the new fill valve seems to be working fine; I guess I am capable.
I've flushed the toilet at least 37 times and all the parts seem to be working. However, the pessimist in me is half way expecting something to explode.
Although, I certainly hope nothing actually does explode; I'm not really in the mood to mop.
It's a relief to finally have this fixed. I kept putting it off because I was unsure of my ability to fix the problem. That's the mark of a true procrastinating pefectionist; I put things off because I don't want to screw up. Some procrastinators procrastinate because they're lazy. I procrastinate because I want to do things perfectly the first time and if I don't think I will, I put it off.
Okay, enough plumbing talk. Besides, I'm hardly an expert and I certainly don't look the part. I don't drive a work van, I will never snake a drain and most importantly, my pants do not fall below the equater, if you catch my drift.