a story of woe
Tomorrow's going to be great. <-- sarcasm) Know how I know? It's 3:45am and I'm awake, even though I start working full-time at my job tomorrow, normal business hours. I'll be starting on 3 hours of sleep. First of all, I had to help John finish moving out of his place tonight. He was supposed to start yesterday morning, but a certain pickup-truck-providing, aloof room mate (Loudon) decided not to answer his phone for over 24 hours. So the whole process was quite delayed. After spending all day cleaning my old apt., I had to come back and help JV move until about midnight.
A shower and a few instant messages later I was ready for bed, until the curse of Ashley kicked in. It took me, me! like an hour to fall asleep. Voodoo magic is a bitch. About 3am I'm having what I thought was a nice little sleep. Then all of a sudden I keep hearing a tapping noise at the foot of my bed. [tap] [tap] "Hmmm, it sounds like something keeps hitting the paper bag full of old newspapers on the floor by my bed," I think. I sit up and pull my sheets away, thinking maybe the fan is blowing them into the paper bag periodically. That's when it hits me. Literally.
[drip!] "WTF?!" I look down. The corner of the bag is wet. I look up. A droplet of water is hanging from the light on my fan. I throw down a trashcan to catch the water and start figuring out what's happening. It's storming outside, but a leak is odd because I'm on the 2nd floor of a 4-story complex. At first I think the neighbors are flooding upstairs, so I put on some shoes to see if they're aware. When I get to the 3rd floor, I see the problem. The complex here is all exposed to the outdoors, motel style. Each unit opens up to a landing w/an outdoor staircase. Well, the 3rd floor layout is different from the second. At the top of the stairs you don't run into another door immediately. You walk down an open-air breezeway and the doors to the units face that.
And in this 4ft-wide breezeway is a big old puddle, directly above where my fan sits. The water is seeping under the wall between the breezeway and the apt. unit on the 3rd floor, running into the structure of the complex, and coming out of the hole in the ceiling where my fan is mounted. Since I just moved in, I realize I don't have the 24-hour maintenance emergency number. (I need to get a copy of my lease, too.) Fuck. I grab a mop and some towels and sweep all the water down the breezeway, off the balcony. I bet it's quite the site to see me flinging broomfulls of water off the balcony in a rainstorm.
So now, no dripping and barely any sleep. Let's hope my next 3 hours in bed are more peaceful.
A shower and a few instant messages later I was ready for bed, until the curse of Ashley kicked in. It took me, me! like an hour to fall asleep. Voodoo magic is a bitch. About 3am I'm having what I thought was a nice little sleep. Then all of a sudden I keep hearing a tapping noise at the foot of my bed. [tap] [tap] "Hmmm, it sounds like something keeps hitting the paper bag full of old newspapers on the floor by my bed," I think. I sit up and pull my sheets away, thinking maybe the fan is blowing them into the paper bag periodically. That's when it hits me. Literally.
[drip!] "WTF?!" I look down. The corner of the bag is wet. I look up. A droplet of water is hanging from the light on my fan. I throw down a trashcan to catch the water and start figuring out what's happening. It's storming outside, but a leak is odd because I'm on the 2nd floor of a 4-story complex. At first I think the neighbors are flooding upstairs, so I put on some shoes to see if they're aware. When I get to the 3rd floor, I see the problem. The complex here is all exposed to the outdoors, motel style. Each unit opens up to a landing w/an outdoor staircase. Well, the 3rd floor layout is different from the second. At the top of the stairs you don't run into another door immediately. You walk down an open-air breezeway and the doors to the units face that.
And in this 4ft-wide breezeway is a big old puddle, directly above where my fan sits. The water is seeping under the wall between the breezeway and the apt. unit on the 3rd floor, running into the structure of the complex, and coming out of the hole in the ceiling where my fan is mounted. Since I just moved in, I realize I don't have the 24-hour maintenance emergency number. (I need to get a copy of my lease, too.) Fuck. I grab a mop and some towels and sweep all the water down the breezeway, off the balcony. I bet it's quite the site to see me flinging broomfulls of water off the balcony in a rainstorm.
So now, no dripping and barely any sleep. Let's hope my next 3 hours in bed are more peaceful.
3 Comments:
That sucks dude, I'm sorry. I'd have unleashed some harsh phone calls
Except I didn't have any numbers to call...except yours.
and never was there a tale of more woe than that of the Wease and the drip on his toe
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