I was born in late January which means I’m an Aquarian.  Whether or not you believe in all the Aquarian attributes, I can assure you that water is definitely “my sign.” Since having had to be fished out of the YWCA pool when I was five after accidentally venturing into the deep end, the Water Bearer and I have had an ambivalent relationship.

Take, for example, when I first began dating my, now, husband. After a lovely dinner, music and romance, we went to bed. Sometime during the night, I awoke thinking “Boy that rain’s loud outside.”

As I started dosing back to sleep, a little voice shouted, “That’s not outside, that’s inside!”

I jumped up, ran to the kitchen, and flicked the light switch. Sparks illuminated the dancing waters of Bellagio’s fountain cascading from my kitchen light and the roaring waters of the Niagara gushing from between the cabinets. Who expected tourist attractions so close to home?!

Moments later, the firemen showed up with their axes at the ready: “Miss, do you have a leak?”

“No, I have a flood!”

Next morning, as I was cleaning up the lake caused by the burst pipe in the apartment line, I went to put on music by which to mop. That CD from the night before of Handel’s Water Music made a great frisbee, right out the window.

Over the years, “Bridge Over Troubled Waters” has become my theme song.

As I write this, I’m waiting for the HVAC repair folks to show up. The cat pan is among the paraphernalia currently floating in the pond downstairs, thanks to a hot water heater gone rogue, encouraged no doubt, by Aquarius herself.

I really thought I’d managed to develop an uneasy truce with the Water Bearer. Apparently, the rage of Aquarius has not yet been mollified. I guess I should just consider myself fortunate not to have been born under the sign of… oh, say… a fire sign.

Editorial originally published in the February 7 issue of Beyond the Nest.