So yesterday I was absolutely certain I could hear rain falling, but everyone else thought I was imagining things. Turns out the upstairs sink was overflowing, and water was streaming down from my office ceiling. But hey, at least I was right! ::quiet sobbing::
The bathroom cabinets are pretty much wrecked, but it could have been worse—and of course it got worse. A few hours later, while we were washing all the towels we'd used to soak up the mess, gallons of soapy water came gushing down the laundry room stairs. Because why wouldn't it?
All the towels were already in the washer, so we had to grab beach towels and paper towels to stop the flood. I can't use the washer to clean any of them for fear of triggering another deluge. I yelled, "What terrible water sprite have I angered, and how do I make it stop?" Twitter suggested I'd need a young priest, an old priest, and some holy water. I replied, "NO MORE WATER, PEOPLE."
Then Twitter said I might need to get my pipes snaked (which sounds incredibly pornographic)—but Victor told me I was reading too much into it. He called Roto-Rooter, and when the guy showed up this morning, he said, "Your pipes are perfectly clean. You clearly have some kind of water demon infestation." He didn't say that last part out loud, but you could feel it. He mentioned he'd send another guy later to check for water behind the walls from the leaks. That guy arrived a few minutes ago, and Victor was on a conference call, so I showed him around. But he had no clue about testing for water behind the walls and was just doing the same thing the first guy did. I went downstairs to get Victor, and he said, "Why would Roto-Rooter be here again? They just left. WHO DID YOU LET IN THE HOUSE?"
That's when I realized the Roto-Rooter guy was probably the evil water phantom, and I'd just invited him inside, so we were totally doomed. Victor said I was confusing vampires and phantoms, and I was convinced we'd go upstairs and find him as a demon-shaped puddle of toilet water that would drown me.
But he was still there, looking human, and seemed doubtful that anyone else had been there that day. According to dispatch, no one else had visited but him. He said the Roto-Rooter man we'd met earlier had been dead for 20 years. He didn't actually say that last part, but again, it was implied.
Then he called dispatch again, and it turned out the girl in charge was new and had no idea what she was doing. So it was probably just a mistake. Or maybe that's a trick water demons use to lull you into a false sense of security. I don't know. Frankly, I'm much more versed in vampires.
On the bright side, we realized the washing machine was incredibly old and probably just busted. So I bought a new one for my birthday tomorrow, but it won't be delivered until next week—so it'll be a late birthday present. Basically, I can't do laundry until next year because of demons. Which isn't a terrible birthday present, all things considered.
PS. I just realized they're going to bring the new washer and take away the broken one on New Year's Day. Isn't that bad luck? Something about not removing anything from your house on New Year's Day? Is there an exemption if you're removing broken things that might be haunted by demons?
PPS. My laundry room isn't upstairs. Our house is built on a steep hill, so there are two stories but five sets of stairs because every room on the ground floor is about three feet shorter than the one before it. It's like M.C. Escher built a house and then filled it with water demons and cats.
PPPS. There is a Kristen Bell gif for everything. That woman is a national treasure.
PPPPS. The water mitigation people just arrived, and they're going to have to tear out a bunch of the upstairs bathroom and my office. Our insurance deductible is almost as much as I paid for college.
Going to just cry for a while now. Fucking water demons.
