So -- happy August 13th, everybody. I'm all holidayed out after this weekend, though, sore and tired and increasingly frayed. Several weeks ago, I requested yesterday (Sunday) off of work, with the thought that we'd go camping Saturday night and watch meteors. It turned out that campsites filled up far too quickly for this plan to be viable; even if we'd been able to secure a campsite, it probably would have been unpleasantly crowded in the area. I didn't change my mind about taking the day off, though, and we had a vague plan of driving out somewhere dark to try to watch meteors anyway. Before that, I was going to spend Friday cleaning the apartment, which needed it very badly after our trip to Arizona the previous weekend; skipping a week of housework is never a good idea.
Plans changed abruptly on Thursday afternoon, when Ken called me to say that our apartment was flooded. Flooded? It turns out that a hose on the washing machine broke, spewing so much water that it soaked through the two apartments below us and into the underground garage. When we got home after work, there was furniture piled on the patios and against the relatively dry far wall of the living room. The bedroom was completely soaked, as was most of the living room. We re-packed all of our recently-unpacked bags and collected Moly, who is now staying with some friends of ours. We're in a hotel -- ok, it's a Radisson, so it's not as much of a hardship as it might be, but it's a hotel. I had enough of a sense of adventure to not mind the first couple of nights; it was the weekend anyway, and it felt like we were tourists. We went to the Wild Animal Park one day, and to the nearby mountains to watch meteors at night, and to the aquarium the day after that. We ate out for every single meal. We swam and hot tubbed at the hotel. We played Fluxx. We played a lot of Fluxx. We visited the apartment, which still smells of wet concrete.
We haven't been sleeping all that well, and the hotel air conditioner dries the room out so severely that I nearly ripped a cornea off one morning. It's a nice hotel, but it's like sharing an efficiency apartment; if one of us wants to sleep and the other wants to watch TV, it's a problem. I was exhausted early last night, but knew that if I made Ken go to bed he wouldn't be able to sleep. I thought I'd be able to doze and either ignore the TV or listen to it, but instead I just got really frustrated and yelled at him. (Everyone who didn't know I'd be the first to snap, raise your hand. Anyone? I thought not.) He's got some early and unpleasant work stuff to do tomorrow, and would really like to sleep at home tonight, but after yesterday's apartment visit I don't see how it would be possible. I guess the landlord's just planning to replace the padding, not the whole carpet, but the carpet was still damp yesterday -- as was the concrete underneath it. My mom, prophet of doom, thinks everything's going to grow mold. I'm hoping they don't rush things in an effort to stop having to pay for our hotel. With the short notice on Thursday afternoon, the only thing we could find anywhere near home was $220 a night. Their initial estimate was that we'd be back in on Tuesday, though they were trying to push it earlier by finding a carpet guy who could come over the weekend. I'm starting to wish they could just give us another vacant apartment... I want to be home, but at the moment it's a humid, smelly home.