So, I got into this whole “supposal” thing a while back. Not because I read some fancy book or anything. It was more like, life just kept smacking me in the face until I paid attention. I figured, okay, maybe I should start looking at these “supposals” I make all the time without even thinking.
I decided to try a little experiment. For a week, before I did pretty much anything, I’d quickly jot down what I was supposing. You know, how long it would take, what I’d need, what the outcome would be. Simple stuff, or so I thought.
It started okay. Supposed making coffee would take 5 minutes. Took 7 because the grinder was acting up. No big deal. Supposed the grocery store trip would be 30 minutes. An hour later, stuck in traffic, I was rethinking that one. But these were small. Then came the real test.
The Faucet Incident: Or, How Supposals Nearly Drowned Me
There was this leaky faucet in the bathroom. Annoying drip, drip, drip. I thought, “Right, weekend project. I can totally fix this.” My supposals went something like this:
- Supposition 1: It’s a simple washer replacement. Max 30 minutes.
- Supposition 2: I definitely have the right tools from that cheap toolkit I bought years ago.
- Supposition 3: That online video tutorial looked super easy. What could go wrong?
Famous last words, right? First off, getting the old fixture apart was a nightmare. Everything was rusted solid. My “trusty” wrench just stripped the nut. So, trip number one to the hardware store. Supposed they’d have the exact part. They didn’t. Had to get a “universal” one. Okay.
Back home, the “universal” part wasn’t so universal. More wrestling. More cursing. The online video? That guy must have been working on a brand-new faucet, probably not even connected to any pipes. My situation under the sink was like a scene from a contortionist’s horror movie.
Then, the moment I thought I had it licked, I turned the main water valve back on just a tiny bit. It wasn’t a drip anymore. It was a geyser. A small, angry geyser, right in my face, soaking the entire bathroom. My wife just stood in the doorway, arms crossed, with that “I told you so” look that I absolutely deserved.
That’s when I really understood this whole “supposal” mess. It wasn’t just about underestimating time. It was about assuming competence I didn’t have, tools that weren’t up to snuff, and situations that were way more complex than they appeared on the surface. I had supposed I was a handyman. The flood proved otherwise.
Ended up calling a plumber. He came in, took one look, chuckled, and had it fixed in 20 minutes flat. Cost me a fair bit, more than I wanted to spend. But watching him, I realized he wasn’t working on supposals. He was working on experience. He knew the potential problems, had the right tools, and understood the system.
So, this practice of mine with “supposal”? It’s still ongoing. I haven’t stopped making suppositions; I don’t think any of us can. But now, I try to catch them. I label them in my head: “Okay, this is a supposal, not a fact.” It’s made me a bit slower to jump into things, a bit more likely to ask questions, or, you know, just call the plumber straight away. Saves a lot of water damage, and a bit of dignity too.
