The Flood

I worked this weekend. It’s never fun, but there are things to be done. And I’m happy to do them.

I was going to come it, but I didn’t. I worked from home.

And while I was tucked beneath my down blanket, cuddled up with my dog and laptop, the office drowned.


Ok, I’m being dramatic. But the roof of our 115-year-old building leaked, and I arrived bright and early this morning to the awful stench of flooded carpets. The windowed offices by my humble “cubicle” were drenched — wet papers peeling of bulletin boards that hung loosely in soggy walls. Water leaked from the keyboards, and coffee mugs left empty on the desks were filled with melted snow.

At least, I figured, it was just the edges of the building. Four offices; that’s not so bad. We’re renovating anyways, so two of them were already empty, waiting a fresh coat of paint and new carpeting.

But then I went to sit down.

Somehow, the water followed the grid in the ceiling to pour down all over my space as well, creating a puddle that, at one point, was four-inches deep. I know this because of the water stains on the bags I had left on my floor.

What'd I lose?

Not the computer; thank God. Instead: phone charger, ipod charger, powerbook charger, imuff charger, and... one pair of ugg boots, among other miscellaneous things.

::sigh::

I'm just happy I’m going on vacation.