As told by your very tired but loyal underground companion.
Hi. I’m your septic tank.
You probably don’t think about me much. That’s okay—I actually prefer it that way. I like the quiet, the solitude, the... you just flushed a wipe, didn’t you?
Sigh.
Let me take you through a typical day down here. It’s not all glamour and glory—it’s a dirty job, but someone (or something) has to do it.
6:00 AM – The Morning Rush
The alarm goes off. You shuffle into the bathroom. I brace myself. Toilets flush. Showers run. Someone dumps leftover coffee grounds down the sink. (Really?) A mystery object clinks its way into the drain—I’ll get to meet that later. It's chaos up there. Down here? I'm just trying to keep things flowing and avoid an early backup.
Oh, those wipes! Those treacherous, deceptively named "flushable" wipes. Let me tell you, they're not flushable. They're cloggable. They don't break down like toilet paper. They just sit there, forming a matted, fibrous mess that's about as welcome as a hairball in your throat. I'm begging you, begging you, throw them in the trash. Please! For the love of all that is... biodegradable.
9:30 AM – Breakfast Remorse
You pour bacon grease straight into the sink. Again.
Look, I’m not mad... I’m disappointed. Grease doesn’t break down—it just clogs up the pipes. It solidifies, creating a thick, gloopy layer that's like concrete for my internal workings. I'm not a deep fryer, folks. I'm a delicate biological system. Pour that grease into a jar and toss it in the garbage. Your arteries and my pipes will thank you.
12:00 PM – Lunch and Laundry
You're multitasking: folding laundry while microwaving leftover tacos. I'm multitasking too—sorting solids from liquids and filtering waste. Now, let’s discuss the paint thinners, pesticides, and harsh cleaning chemicals. Those things are basically kryptonite to my bacterial buddies, the superheroes of decomposition, and you're sending in the villains. These chemicals kill them off, leaving me struggling to do my job. And then, everything slows down. And then, things get... backed up. And nobody wants that.
2:00 PM – The Forbidden Flush
Now and then, I get a break. A little silence. A little dignity.
Then someone decides to flush dental floss, a cotton swab, and—wait for it—a hair tie.
I’m not a magician. I can’t make non-biodegradable things disappear. That’s how clogs happen. And clogs? That’s how you get a surprise puddle in your backyard. Dental floss? Cotton balls? Sanitary products? Cigarette butts? Hair? Coffee grounds? Cat litter?! People, what are you thinking? I'm not a black hole. I can't handle everything. These things don't break down, and they create blockages that are a nightmare to deal with.
5:00 PM – Dinner, Dishes, and Drain Pain
The whole family’s home. The dishwasher’s running, the kids are brushing their teeth, and someone just tried to grind up an entire lemon in the disposal. Too much water is also a problem. Think of me as a reservoir. If you flood me with excessive laundry, long showers, or leaky faucets, I'm going to overflow. And trust me, you don't want to deal with that.
I’m doing my best. But I haven’t been pumped in years, and I’m starting to feel... full. Not emotionally. Literally.
10:00 PM – Lights Out (For You, Not Me)
You head to bed, blissfully unaware of the mini wastewater empire under your lawn. Meanwhile, I’m still working—quietly, constantly—hoping tomorrow doesn’t bring me a surprise birthday balloon someone flushed “just to see what would happen.”
The Bottom Line (No Pun Intended)
I’m here for the long haul. But even I have limits.
If your toilets are slow, your drains gurgle, or your yard smells suspiciously swampy, it’s time to give FJ Rabon Construction a call at 803-438-1075 or contact them via their webform. They know how to treat me right—cleaning, repairs, inspections, and yes, even full replacements when I’ve seen too much.
Treat me with respect. I'm not asking for much. A little common sense. Think before you flush. Think before you pour. I'm down here, working hard to keep things flowing smoothly. Don't make me come up there and remind you myself.
Take care of me, and I’ll keep taking care of you. No leaks. No smells. No “surprises.”
Sincerely,
Your Septic Tank
(still holding that baby wipe from 2017)