I believe this because it has happened to me so often. Here’s a short tale about just that very thing happening:
Four years ago, as I prepared to leave on a three-month trip around the US in my camper van, I was stumped as to what to do with the dehumidifier in my finished basement. Like many basements, it is damp, so I had been running a dehumidifier for years. Sometimes I would have to empty it daily. What to do while I was away?
Being a self-proclaimed champ of jerry rigging, I bought a small pump on line that would pump out water when it got above a certain level. I wrestled it into the tray of the dehumidifier, attached a hose which I jammed it into the pipe where my washing machine water flushes into the septic tank. This is more information than you need, but I’m so proud of my “invention” because it worked for four years.
Recently, however, I noticed that although the dehumidifier turns on periodically, the basement feels dank. Yet another thing I do not want to confront.
Finally, I slump down the stairs (I slump a lot when approaching daunting tasks) and pull out the tank. It is full of dust. Definitely the humidifier has gone belly up. I unplug it, lift out the pump, go upstairs, and test it in my kitchen sink. It still works.
Now what? Sigh. I guess I have to get rid of the dead monster down stairs.
I go back to the basement and heave the heavy, old dehumidifier off the table and onto a rolling cart. Sweating and grunting, I manage to get it up the stairs and out to the barn. I have no idea what I am going to do with it. I’ll have to find someone to take it to a dump.
Back in the house I fling myself onto the bed unhappy that I will have to A: find someone to haul it away to a dump, and B: go to Home Depot, purchase another one, drag it home, somehow get it into the house, and haul it down to the…..
The phone rings. And, here’s where the story gets good. It is my ex husband’s secretary, Linda. She asks me to tell someone who’s now waiting in the driveway that she’s late and will be here soon. I go outside. It’s Dave, the guy who did such a great job repairing my barn after Hurricane Sandy. He’s here to fix the bathroom in Linda’s office. (Yes, my ex and I have a friendly partnership.)
“Dave!” I call out. He walks toward me. We chat.
As we start toward the house, I stop and ask, “By the way, is there any chance you could take that dehumidifier to the dump for me?”
“Sure!” he says. “I’ll put it in the truck with that old washing machine. On my way to the dump after I leave here, anyway.”
“How much….?” I start to ask.
“Nothing! Don’t worry about it.”
In the house we talk about his young daughter, Sophia, who is an aspiring actress. I run to my office to get a copy of my acting book and autograph it for her.
Linda arrives. While Dave goes to look at the bathroom, I tell her about the dehumidifier pooping out.
“Oh, I’ve got one in the storeroom I’m not using any more.”
“Really? Can I use it?”
“Sure.” Linda goes to her store room, rolls it out, and I plug it in. It not only works, it has a built-in pump! An easy hook up to the tubes I already have in place!
The whole thing, from dreaded confrontation to resolution happened in less than an hour.
My basement is now nice and dry.
What you need will show up the moment you need it—not a moment before and not a moment after. Love it.
(This blog addresses the principle of RELAXATION/Trust.)