It's been a long week.
Last Sunday I awoke, ate a healthy breakfast, and geared up for my usual weekend workout. As I was headed out the garage door, I noticed that the shower curtain in the downstairs bathroom was drawn shut. "Some night when I come home late; that's going to freak me out. I'm going to think someone is hiding behind it," I thought to myself. I promptly walked over and opened the curtain, thus silencing my paranoia. En route, I noticed a single ply of toilet paper floating in the toilet. Thinking nothing of it, I flushed the toilet and went on my way.
I was feeling particularly spry and energetic that morning, so I drove Petunia to X-Sport Fitness (the preferred gym of the Chicago Bears) for a morning class and a little cardio action. I wasn't feeling completely exhausted after the class, so I found myself at my *other* gym, Flirty Girl Fitness for some boxing drills. Only in Chicago can you find an all-women's gym with a boxing class (complete with pink Everlast equipment) set to Miley Cyrus music.
I digress. Several hours later, I returned home and noticed water pouring out of the garage. "Please don't let that be coming from the apartment," I thought. As the garage door slowly unveiled the source of the cascade, my heart sank into my stomach. I scrambled for the key while the freezing cold water seeped through my shoes. Finally, I opened the door to reveal the toilet spewing out (clean) water. I took a step into the apartment. Squish. "Uh-oh".
At first, I thought the toilet had only overflowed into the landing next to the bathroom. After talking with Sarah "the Saint" and my Dad, it was concluded that I would rent a wet-vac from Home Depot. I scrambled to the HD and rented the Wet-Vac, only to find that it didn't properly fit in my VW Bug. Foiled again! I struggled with the Wet-Vac for quite sometime before deciding to drive home with the hatch open.
Just as I got the Wet-Vac wedged into my car with the hatch open, it started to snow. So there I was: having a panic attack, stuck in traffic, with the snow blowing into my car and in my face.
Priceless.
*Fast forward to me realizing that the water had seeped through the wall, under the stairs, and into Sarah's room*. (Expletive).
*Fast forward to me realizing that the water had ALSO seeped through the other wall, under the stairs, and into the neighbor's adjoining apartment*. (Expletive. Expletive).
Yep. My neighbors LOVE me, by the way. They've really enjoyed being inconvenienced by the water, servicemen, and the sound of industrial-sized fans all night.
Epilogue:
The carpet has been completely ripped out. Industrial fans and dehumidifiers have been commissioned to dry out the place. If it doesn't dry out, maybe it will freeze over and we can charge admission for ice-skaters(?). Fortunately, Sarah is the kindest, most understanding person in the world. She has taken the "it could have happened to anybody" stance, rather than giving me the boot. She says one day we'll laugh about the time I flooded half of Chicago. Here's hopin', Hanchar. Here's hopin'.
