Boilers. In bathrooms. I hate it, but it's common practice here, even in new builds. Questionably fastened high up in the corners of the bathrooms, heating water for the sinks and tubs. In the summer you don't need them, even the cold water is too hot to use except early morning or late at night, and in the winter they're so small they only heat enough water to get through a shampoo and half a rinse, forget shaving both legs.
They freak me out, always have, so I often have my daughter shower or bathe in my bathroom where the boiler is on the opposite side of the room from the tub, rather than directly over it like in her bathroom.
Tonight, the electric cables that run from the wall to the boiler have water running down them, dripping down the wall, onto the shelf I had beneath it, and pooling on the floor. And it's on. I've been a little wary since my last experience with electricity so I thought that rather than flipping switches I would think it through, make a plan. It seemed like a good idea. Once my daughter was in bed I was going to turn all the lights off except my bathroom light, so that I would be able to see the glow when it was on from downstairs by the circuit breaker (if that's even what it's called). Then I would start flipping the power off so when the lights went off I would know power to the bathroom was cut. Then I would go in and turn off the water at the wall, and on in the tub to drain the boiler. Then I would dry the floor so that neither my daughter or I would slip if we got up in the night to use the toilet.
I thought it made sense. And then I was told, very nicely, with no sarcasm or blond jokes (the blond is a thing of the past by the way) that I needed to leave it, or ask for help.
Help is an interesting thing. People offer help when they feel sorry for you, without any intention of actually stepping up, it just alleviates the weight of their pity. And they offer help when they think they can fix you, your problems, if you'll only step in line with their plans. Few actually step forward, asking what you need, or what they can do where you really need help. It's how you know who your friends are. And then there are those that just know, and make things happen, before you're even aware it's what you need.
I digress. In this case 'help' is sleeping it off in the gate house. Unfortunately most residents on the compound pay the maintenance staff for favours (like walking their dogs, washing their cars, and watering their gardens) with bottles of whiskey. If you have an emergency it better be before 1400.
So the wires are live. They are still dripping. The water is still pooling. There is a small ledge between my bedroom and the bathroom, I don't expect the water to rise enough to go over it between now and tomorrow morning. I've locked the door and put the key away so neither of us stumbles in in the night. In the morning I'll call maintenance from work to arrange for him to come over when I get home from work at 1400. Upon hanging up he will immediately run to my villa, and finding no-one home, he will leave. When he sees my car later, as late as he can leave it, he will tell me how he tried to fix my problem but I wasn't there. It will be my fault because I was at work and not home, so he'll be finishing work for the day, looking forward to his next binge, expecting something extra in his pocket to fix my boiler.