I got to my door today to find a postcard tucked in between the doorknob and the frame. It contained an exciting message: "I will be by tomorrow to complete repairs to your ceiling." I let out an audible cry of: "Yes!" and did a little happy dance, considering this to be the best part of my day. Who knew a 3.5x5 piece of card stock could be so exciting.
This time last week, I was making my triumphant return to Summerville. Triumphant for the fact that I had made it 681 miles with no problems other than a little snow in Ohio. As I relished in the 60+ degree temperatures and the waning sunlight, I happily unloaded my car. Deciding to be even more productive, I began unloading all my bags that second. The first bag I grabbed was my "bathroom" bag.
Singing a happy little song, I took two steps into the bathroom before my foot hit the rug. There are a lot of sounds you don't want to hear, and one of them is "squish." That, however, was the exact sound that I heard. Coupled with the cold, wet feeling under my foot, I began to panic. Sure enough, I looked down and saw the water all over the floor.
Panic set in as I looked at the toilet first (nothing is worse than sewage!). My next thought was even more disturbing, as another possibility was burst pipes. I scrambled through all the closets and drawers trying to find the source of the leak. Everything was dry as could be. Maybe the tub was leaking and overflowed? To my horror, the tub had several inches of standing water. What had I done? Did I leave the water running for some bizarre reason before I left?
Closer investigation revealed nothing dripping from the faucet. Something made me look up, and that's when I noticed it: A foot long crack in the ceiling, sheet rock sagging, and a clear view through the sub-floor of the apartment. To make matters worse, twenty minutes later as I waited for the maintenance man, water started pouring through a previously solid part of my ceiling.
Kudos to Robert, who came over to my apartment with his trusty ladder and what I believe was a band saw. One 12x12 hole, one 8x11 hole, and a little tiny poke into the ceiling later (which released more water, which landed on his head), he determined that my bathroom ceiling was a victim of a tub leak in the upstairs apartment.
Tomorrow is the day though, new ceiling and/or new patches to ceiling. After that, I am bleaching the crap out of that room. I'm guessing there has to be mold spores somewhere, and in response to whoever said, "At least tub water is better than toilet water": You're mostly correct, but water coming from someone else's bathroom is still water from someone else's bathroom and it has contaminated mine. (And that is how I will spend part of my three-day weekend).
Well, I am eagerly awaiting a chance to have someone look at my car and determine why it sounds like eighty-bajillion (real word) crickets are living inside, so I must go. Have a happy Monday!
Panic set in as I looked at the toilet first (nothing is worse than sewage!). My next thought was even more disturbing, as another possibility was burst pipes. I scrambled through all the closets and drawers trying to find the source of the leak. Everything was dry as could be. Maybe the tub was leaking and overflowed? To my horror, the tub had several inches of standing water. What had I done? Did I leave the water running for some bizarre reason before I left?
Closer investigation revealed nothing dripping from the faucet. Something made me look up, and that's when I noticed it: A foot long crack in the ceiling, sheet rock sagging, and a clear view through the sub-floor of the apartment. To make matters worse, twenty minutes later as I waited for the maintenance man, water started pouring through a previously solid part of my ceiling.
Kudos to Robert, who came over to my apartment with his trusty ladder and what I believe was a band saw. One 12x12 hole, one 8x11 hole, and a little tiny poke into the ceiling later (which released more water, which landed on his head), he determined that my bathroom ceiling was a victim of a tub leak in the upstairs apartment.
Tomorrow is the day though, new ceiling and/or new patches to ceiling. After that, I am bleaching the crap out of that room. I'm guessing there has to be mold spores somewhere, and in response to whoever said, "At least tub water is better than toilet water": You're mostly correct, but water coming from someone else's bathroom is still water from someone else's bathroom and it has contaminated mine. (And that is how I will spend part of my three-day weekend).
Well, I am eagerly awaiting a chance to have someone look at my car and determine why it sounds like eighty-bajillion (real word) crickets are living inside, so I must go. Have a happy Monday!
Bleach the "crap" out of the bathroom? Pun intended??
ReplyDeleteNo pun intended...I saw that after I posted the page. Colon, capital D.
ReplyDelete