5 Minutes, 3 Dry Heaves, 2 Beauty Products

Living alone is quite the rewarding thing for chicks in today's world. I mean, in addition to the asstasticness that is cooking yourself Bagel Bites in your skivvies, it's also pretty damn awesome to know you're calling the shots around the place and it's all yours. You're the one making sure the power stays on and that you don't get evicted, and maybe sometimes on special occasions you even remember to lock the doors when you stumble in at 2am. (if you're a stalker, that last part isn't from experience, k?) You're the queen of the castle and, well, that's pretty damn cool.

Along with all of these awesome things comes a few unawesome things every once in a while that make you wonder why you ever opted out of having a male roommate. Case in point, that time I had to kill that big bad bastard bug all by myself. 

Now, I'm no helpless little damsel in distress over here but I'm also not saying there aren't certain things around my apartment that would be much more efficiently done if I had a male around. Bob the builder, I am not. 

There's definitely been a handful of times I've had to bribe a male or two to come over and put things together, or properly hang things on my walls because, lezbihonest, ain't nobody got time for all of that measuring and leveling nonsense. Luckily, bribing men is easier than bribing a child with M&Ms. I typically opt for the beer bribe but I'm sure if you use your imagination you can find a few other things that would work as well.

Sounds easy enough, right? Right.

Except no, this was not the case for me last night. See, over the last week or so my shower has been draining slower than honey out of a plastic bear's cone hat and it has only been getting progressively worse. Now, like I said, I'm no little princess who can't get her hands a little dirty, but I know damn right well what it means when that shower isn't draining and I know that meaning isn't a magical unicorn waiting to pop out and spread rainbows all over my apartment. 

So, I did what any chick trying to prove a point that she can fend for herself would do, I unscrewed the plug thingermajigger to assess just how bad this situation was going to be. Low and behold, it was bad. Bad bad bad. Too bad for me to even paint a picture because last night's Chardonnay is going to come up if I have to put much more thought into the disturbing scene I viewed last night.

Fast forward to my problem solving skills, I bust out my thinking cap and try to figure out how to get this disturbance out of my drain so I can take a real shower and not a shower-bath. 

Cheap tweezers that came in a manicure kit that I never use, check.

Bobby pin I found conveniently snoozing on the floor by my shower, check. 

Lets eff some shit up. 

5 minutes, 3 dry heaves, 2 beauty products, and 1 massive pile of disgustingness, my drain was clear and that water was rushing down like Niagra Falls.

I did the damn thing and I did it well. 

And that, my friends, is what I like to chalk up to another #singlegirlwin. 

Thank you and good night!