When God flooded the earth, He sent a rainbow to remind His people of His covenant. When God flooded my bathroom, I got nothing! Last night at 4 a.m., I woke up to my dog barking her fool head off. Mark is out in Colorado having the time of his life snowboarding while I try to get my dissertation finished and simultaneously attempt to mop up what can only be described as 20 toilets worth of water spilled all over my guest bathroom that is about the size of 1 toilet. Trinity's bark wasn't the "I need to go pee" bark or the "I hear a noise outside" bark, but it was more like the "There is something seriously wrong going in this house and my goal is to make my mom as scared as I am" bark. I was really out of it, being woken from a deep sleep, and I'm pretty sure I thought there was someone in the house and I put the covers over my head in the hopes that the intruder wouldn't see me. Then I realized that I was hearing a weird hissing noise coming from the bathroom in the hallway. I considered getting Mark's hatchet from beside the bed before venturing out of the bedroom, but I decided against it (probably a smart move, because I may have tried to hack the toilet to pieces). The bathroom looked like a volcano, the toilet spewing great spouts of water from two spots. The floor was already covered with a layer of water. Apparently I really don't think well at 4 in the morning and my first thought was to open the top of the commode and see what I could do. After moving random things around inside the toilet, I remembered (duh) that I could shut the water off at the wall. So with the water gushing right in my face like a scene from Tom & Jerry, I pushed my way to the wall to turn the water off. With Trinity hiding in her bed, I called the apartment emergency number and left a message. The guy called me back a minute later and I told him what had happened. His advice? "Do you have towels?" Well yeah, I have towels. Apparently he lives 40 minutes away and wouldn't be getting to my flooded bathroom until the next morning. So I used every towel in the house trying to sop up gallons upon gallons of toilet water from my floor. In the process, I discovered how dirty my floors are because dog hair was floating by me from spots that the mop hadn't reached, ever. After moving everything out of the bathroom and laundry room (where the water had flowed underneath the washing machine...which is a much dirtier place than the bathroom floor), I sopped up enough water to be confident that the apartment below me wouldn't be flooded, as well. Trin and I got back in bed around 4:45. All I was thinking as I sopped and soaked and squeeged was how Mark would probably have a much better solution to this mess if he were here. So where's my rainbow? I guess the rainbow is hidden in the fact that if it had happened 12 hours earlier, I would've been in Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Where's my rainbow?
When God flooded the earth, He sent a rainbow to remind His people of His covenant. When God flooded my bathroom, I got nothing! Last night at 4 a.m., I woke up to my dog barking her fool head off. Mark is out in Colorado having the time of his life snowboarding while I try to get my dissertation finished and simultaneously attempt to mop up what can only be described as 20 toilets worth of water spilled all over my guest bathroom that is about the size of 1 toilet. Trinity's bark wasn't the "I need to go pee" bark or the "I hear a noise outside" bark, but it was more like the "There is something seriously wrong going in this house and my goal is to make my mom as scared as I am" bark. I was really out of it, being woken from a deep sleep, and I'm pretty sure I thought there was someone in the house and I put the covers over my head in the hopes that the intruder wouldn't see me. Then I realized that I was hearing a weird hissing noise coming from the bathroom in the hallway. I considered getting Mark's hatchet from beside the bed before venturing out of the bedroom, but I decided against it (probably a smart move, because I may have tried to hack the toilet to pieces). The bathroom looked like a volcano, the toilet spewing great spouts of water from two spots. The floor was already covered with a layer of water. Apparently I really don't think well at 4 in the morning and my first thought was to open the top of the commode and see what I could do. After moving random things around inside the toilet, I remembered (duh) that I could shut the water off at the wall. So with the water gushing right in my face like a scene from Tom & Jerry, I pushed my way to the wall to turn the water off. With Trinity hiding in her bed, I called the apartment emergency number and left a message. The guy called me back a minute later and I told him what had happened. His advice? "Do you have towels?" Well yeah, I have towels. Apparently he lives 40 minutes away and wouldn't be getting to my flooded bathroom until the next morning. So I used every towel in the house trying to sop up gallons upon gallons of toilet water from my floor. In the process, I discovered how dirty my floors are because dog hair was floating by me from spots that the mop hadn't reached, ever. After moving everything out of the bathroom and laundry room (where the water had flowed underneath the washing machine...which is a much dirtier place than the bathroom floor), I sopped up enough water to be confident that the apartment below me wouldn't be flooded, as well. Trin and I got back in bed around 4:45. All I was thinking as I sopped and soaked and squeeged was how Mark would probably have a much better solution to this mess if he were here. So where's my rainbow? I guess the rainbow is hidden in the fact that if it had happened 12 hours earlier, I would've been in 
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Just read this! Sounds horrible, maybe that's why your bathroom was so clean!
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