Water, water, everywhere


We woke up Saturday morning to a water outage--water main break outside the condo. OK, not a major deal. Sure, I'm in the middle of moving, so showers are pretty important after spending all day hauling boxes, but the water was supposed to be restored within a few hours.

And restored it was. Around 2pm, the pipes started gurgling. Hurrah, a maintenance issue that didn't turn into an epic disaster!

See how naive I am?

Around 3pm, I stepped into the bathroom and noticed the bathmat had a large wet spot on it.

"Well, that's unusual, I don't recall pouring a glass of water directly onto the bathmat."

"Darling? The bathmat is producing its own water. Please call the Vatican, I think this might be a miracle."

I then walked into the bedroom and --squish-- found a large puddle in the carpet. That's . . . not right. Clearly disaster is afoot.

I followed the gentle tinkling sound of water-falling-onto-metal-when-that-definitely-shouldn't-be-happening, and, what do you know? There's water dripping out of the exhaust vent over the shower--I'm no plumber, but I'm pretty sure the water's supposed to come out of the showerhead.

At this point I may have gone into a rage blackout.

El Peruano ran down to the front desk to inquire about what, exactly, this water main break repair entailed. Did they decide to whack a few pipes open for fun before they left?

No, it turns out that our upstairs neighbor is, to put it delicately, a moron.

A complete, utter, unstoppable moron.

We already dislike Upstairs Moron. In the evenings around the time we arrive home from work, he seems to enjoy weight lifting. He also enjoys weight dropping. The weights hit the floor with a loud boom, and our entire condo shakes. Repeatedly. For a half hour.

Either that or he's got a bowling alley no one knows about.

We've also been awakened at 3:30am by a loud, irritating buzzing sound coming from Upstairs Moron's condo. He's apparently unaware that his condo is NOT soundproof, and thought vacuuming at 3:30am was appropriate.

But this takes the cake. Upstairs Moron apparently woke up to discover there was no water, and his unparalleled reasoning skills led him to believe that if he turned the taps on ALL THE WAY, water would come out. It didn't.

So he left them on. FULLY OPEN.

And left the condo.

This act of astounding intelligence came back to bite him in the ass when the water came back on, and flooded his condo.

And ours.

And the two below ours.

And now we've got repair people tramping in and out, a giant, industrial-strength dehumidifier running all day, some other, even louder contraption trying to suck water out of the hardwood floor. Not to mention rooms full of boxes, because did I mention I'm in the middle of moving? And, oh, two terrified cats.


Needless to say, very little knitting time.

If you hear a story about a man in the Washington, D.C. area stabbed to death with a knitting needle, you'll know why. Please come defend me in court.