5:30 A.M.: I wake up and have to pee. The alarm is set for 6, so I go back to bed.
5:45 A.M.: Fuck it, I can’t sleep.
6:25 A.M.: I get out of the shower and start to get dressed. Out the corner of my eye, I notice water on the kitchen floor. Did the cat spill her water? There seems to be an awful lot of it…
6:30 A.M.: I turn on the light and discover that our apartment is flooding. Again.
6:32 A.M.: I can’t deal with it all by myself, so I wake Morah up early – on her day off, no less.
6:34 A.M.: We put a couple of large towels down on the floor to soak up the water. Since this has happened before, I know that the water is coming in through an outdoor storage closet. For the first time since we’ve lived here, the closet is locked.
6:45 A.M.: Morah and I stand in the kitchen and discuss our options. While we’re talking, the power flickers on and off a couple of times, then goes out for good. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I say out loud.
6:50 A.M.: I call our managers (who now live off-site, but didn’t tell us that) to tell them about the flooding and lack of power. I am told that the handy-man will be in at 9. Yeah, thanks. And what about the flooding that’s still happening? We’re up to 5 towels at this point.
7:10 A.M.: I leave for work (ten minutes late). There’s still no power, so I have to open the garage door manually, which gets my nice leather gloves all wet and dirty. There’s water in my left shoe.
11:30 A.M.: I come home for lunch and get the final report: the power came back on an hour after I left and the final towel count reached 10. The handy-man had come and used a shop vacuum to suck inch-deep standing water out of the closet. The people who live across from us also experienced some minor flooding.
11:50 A.M.: Okay, time for lunch. What do I want? Nothing. Everything sounds gross. We settle on Subway, but I didn’t really enjoy my sandwich.
12:40 P.M.: Back at work. I feel really tired. Really tired. What’s up with that?
2:45 P.M.: My stomach feels upset, I’m getting a slight headache, my face feels warm, my entire body is achy. Seriously? Yeah, today has sucked balls. Why not get sick as well?
3:05 P.M.: It’s a coworker’s birthday and chocolate-mousse cake is being foisted upon me. Not the tiny sliver I wanted, but, “a man’s slice.” It tastes great, but makes me want to throw up.
4:10 P.M.: I get home and call to cancel my appointment with my chiropractor. I feel like crap and all I want to do is sleep. Instead, I check my e-mail and write this blog post.
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