The Slow Drip from the Cold Tap

Dear Delyara, The tap in the utility room has developed a heavy, deliberate drip that hits the stainless-steel sink exactly once every four seconds. Plop. Plop. Plop. If I don't wedge a folded dishcloth directly under the spout to cushion the fall, the sound echoes through the drywall, turning the entire flat into a ticking clock that refuses to let me sleep. I lay on the sofa tonight watching the water slowly saturate the blue fabric, thinking about how tiny, repetitive annoyances can wear down a person's resolve faster than a single major crisis.