Monday, April 11, 2011
Danny, I understand what you're going through.
What a horrible weekend.
After a week that averaged 4 hours of sleep a night, I awoke after 10 hours of sleep Saturday morning to feed my cat. Down the steps to his food dish I go, only to find about 3 inches of standing water. The torrential downpour that hit Louisville and sounded like God at ceramic breaking festival had turned my basement into the world's largest domestic water park. There were sharks and bass and lampreys and driftwood and a 10-foot waterslide—they used to be stairs but it's amazing what you can do with an old cafeteria tray.
Just a fucking mess.
So called a company to come help me pull the plug on my new pool and they showed up a few hours later. When they got there, they started pulling water out of the carpet. Only to ask me if the basement had flooded before. Which I replied yes it had but not for 3 years. Our basement flooded 3 times in the first 4 months we lived in this house—don't ask.
The lead guy in the crew, John, then ripped off the baseboard to show me mold, dirt, gunk and rot. Turns out the guys we'd used before to dry out our basement hadn't bothered to look behind the baseboard for damage or moisture.
Great. So now what?
John, then informed me he was going to have to cut the wall. Yeah, it's as scary as it sounds.
5 hours later, my basement walls essentially looked like they were wearing a mini-skirt. OVER 1/3 OF MY WALL IS MISSING IN 4 ROOMS OF MY FUCKING HOUSE. All of our furniture is crammed into one corner of our basement. My studio looks like a homeless shelter. Our cat is mad because he can't eat in peace away from the dog. We have virtually no clothes left to wear because they had to completely disconnect the washer and dryer. It's a shit show.
Anyway, turns out the leak sprung from a pipe that the FUCKING BASEMENT WATER REMOVAL SYSTEM DIDN'T BOTHER TO CAULK. (Think B-Dry or Drylock, but not these guys, they're okay in my book.) And the force of the all the rain knocked it loose. Seriously, some dipshit doesn't caulk a joint together and the Mississippi River shows up in my house?
Anyway. Danny, I now know what it's like to get skull fucked.
If you need me, I'll be in my basement with a mop and a gun.