Penny dreadful, part 2: Looking for Mr. Goodpump

Less than a week after I left my decades-long job on May 1, I found myself in hell-and-gone suburbs shopping for the perfect soap dispensers. And pillows. And those fluffy egg-crate-looking things that are supposed to make beds gooshier.

The perfect soap dispenser?I knew this was weird. I told myself this wasn’t an emotional reaction but that I was finally getting around to taking care of all the house needs that I had put off for a long time.

But soap dispensers? They required no less than umpteen stores. And several clerks. They had to be the right color and the right material. No schlock pumps for me.

If my career compass was spinning out of control, by god I was going to hunker into a nice home. And apparently wash my hands a lot.

I finally found the perfect dispensers. To replace the previous once-perfect dispensers that were caving in. All my sinks were beautiful at last and I could wash my hands in bliss while admiring my knack for decorating style.

And then the plumbing problems started.

To be continued ….

— Laura Grimes

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PHOTO: This soap dispenser comes from Lavish & Lime of Vancouver, B.C., but Mrs. Scatter didn’t have to drive to Canada to buy it. She just had to drive to hell-and-gone suburbs. It goes with the rest of the decor bee-yut-ee-fully.