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+ 1 - 0 | § All right, let's talk worst day ever.

Yesterday I worked from home, in order to keep an eye on the Maintenance guys.   A pipe leak had inched along our ceiling and down a wall, and grown a little mold over the months.  We hadn't noticed, until a thawed out AC pipe in the roof hadf flooded this little route.  Two weeks later, mushrooms were poking out of our carpet and there was a yellow goop river traveling down a caved-in indentation in our wall.

The first time, the guys came, sprayed the carpet, and left.  We called to say that wasn't enough, it was in our WALL for shit's sake, so they came back, ripped off some paint, and left a note, "back in a couple days, when wall is dry".

So we went down to the office yesterday and said, there's a leak.  It's not going to dry.  Please haul some ass.

I stayed home to make sure they got shit done.  It was amazingly stressful, on the phone with the apartment complex, the company who owned said complex, and Nikki, who'd been worked into a phenomenally hostile tizzy by everybody telling her she needed to move out tomorrow and sue everybody's asses and how could she LIVE like that, and was goin' all crazy every 15 minutes because I wasn't doing things the way she would.  I practically had to yell at her to establish some faith that I was doing anything.

Driving yourself up the wall to get something done so that somebody else doesn't have to deal with it, then having that person call every half hour to say that they weren't confident you were actually doing anything, man, that's one of those really defeating things that makes you look across the apartment at your bed and think, "I should never have left you.  That was my biggest mistake, leaving you today."  And she keeps going, and the thought floats through your head, "Leaving YOU, however...".  But you're pissed and stressed, and have at least the shred of common sense left that tells you that it's not rational thought talking.  At least, that's what it was like for me.

They fixed the leak, ripped out some wall, sprayed everything down, and left for the day,  saying they needed stuff to dry out.   Nikki apologized for her brief stint of madness, and her sister made really tasty dinner for us.  I felt a little better, like things were actually changing in some vague positive direction.

Then I found out that Splinter, my chinchilla, had died.  And I felt like utter shit.

And the rain made our roof leak again.  And I just broke. 

I was so over caring about a goddamn thing for the rest of the day, I just went straight to sleep, water-drip sound and all.

This morning, on the way to work, I managed to work myself up over just the memories of the whole goddamn mess that I came perilously close to crying.  I had to sit on the steps out back and have two cigarettes before I could compose myself enough to go inside and start a work day.

Oh, and we got a kitten Thursday, and it's cute and I like it and all, but right now I'm kind of pissed off at it for being the one that survived.

And I kind of need another cigarette just from telling this whole bloody story.