How a tropical storm kept me off LiveJournal
I meant to do memes. I meant to work out. I meant to work on my fics with all their looming deadlines.
And then I walked into my bedroom at 6:30 p.m. last Saturday.
Rewind: A week ago Saturday, my day started off great. Tropical Storm Hanna was on its way and the weather here was completely disgusting, about 85 degrees and so humid I sweated walking from my car to the post office. I ran the usual litany of Saturday errands: post office, latte, gas, grocery store, etc. Then I learned that an author friend was doing a reading at a local bookstore and figured it was only a mile and a half from where I live; even in rain it wouldn't be a bad drive home. I showered, dressed, did a little writing and went to the reading. While I was at the reading it started pouring. I drove home, played Guitar Hero for a little while, and said, "Okay, time for a workout."
I went into my bedroom to change into my workout clothes and found water dripping from my light fixture. Water was pouring in through the window. The plaster around and underneath the windows had melted away. A crack widened in the center of the ceiling. I could see water stains spreading, like when you put a paper towel over a spill. Plaster began to melt and curl away from the ceiling. There were puddles on the floor. Water began to damage the ceiling in parts I'd never seen it do damage before. Spots appeared on the bedroom walls. The crack in our living room ceiling began to open and water dripped onto the couch.
So I did what any other human being in my situation would do: I freaked out, then sprang into action. I called the emergency services number for my complex but of course they couldn't send anyone out. I grabbed our shop vac and sucked up what water I could. I emptied buckets and put down pots to catch the water dripping in front of my dresser. I stripped the soaked bedding off the mattress and found the mattress and box spring had already been absorbing water for three hours.
The storm took about 12 hours to pass. Mr. Cedar had been away on business and came home around 7 o'clock on Sunday morning. He slept for a while (I didn't) and then headed to the laundromat with me to try to salvage our bedding. Thankfully, the sheets and blankets were okay. The mattress and box spring are a lost cause. There was simply more water than one human being could keep up with. The super said we weren't his problem and the apartment management swore we were. I was awake from 9 a.m. on Saturday until about 1 a.m. on Monday.
The good news is that our complex is under new, competent management and they have been proactive in getting pictures and records of our damage. They have brought in an insurance adjuster to look at the apartment and we called the town building department to come in as well. You can still smell the mildew when you walk into my bedroom and my apartment has been declared untenable by the complex management. They are moving us into a new apartment and replacing what we lost. In the meantime, Mr. Cedar and I are sleeping on the sofabed in the living room and changing clothes in the bathroom because when he went to raise the blinds the Monday after the storm, they fell down, along with a ton of plaster. And of course, all this happens the week before I have a publisher's preview, an all-day program, another publisher's afternoon program, and a systemwide library meeting.
Now, I'm from the Midwest and I've seen my share of foul weather. I've seen floods and tornadoes and snowstorms. I've never been through a tropical storm in a building with windows that desperately needed replacing, though. Of course, I'm most glad that Beezus and Henry are okay and no one was hurt. It's just a giant pain in the ass though, all this.
And then I walked into my bedroom at 6:30 p.m. last Saturday.
Rewind: A week ago Saturday, my day started off great. Tropical Storm Hanna was on its way and the weather here was completely disgusting, about 85 degrees and so humid I sweated walking from my car to the post office. I ran the usual litany of Saturday errands: post office, latte, gas, grocery store, etc. Then I learned that an author friend was doing a reading at a local bookstore and figured it was only a mile and a half from where I live; even in rain it wouldn't be a bad drive home. I showered, dressed, did a little writing and went to the reading. While I was at the reading it started pouring. I drove home, played Guitar Hero for a little while, and said, "Okay, time for a workout."
I went into my bedroom to change into my workout clothes and found water dripping from my light fixture. Water was pouring in through the window. The plaster around and underneath the windows had melted away. A crack widened in the center of the ceiling. I could see water stains spreading, like when you put a paper towel over a spill. Plaster began to melt and curl away from the ceiling. There were puddles on the floor. Water began to damage the ceiling in parts I'd never seen it do damage before. Spots appeared on the bedroom walls. The crack in our living room ceiling began to open and water dripped onto the couch.
So I did what any other human being in my situation would do: I freaked out, then sprang into action. I called the emergency services number for my complex but of course they couldn't send anyone out. I grabbed our shop vac and sucked up what water I could. I emptied buckets and put down pots to catch the water dripping in front of my dresser. I stripped the soaked bedding off the mattress and found the mattress and box spring had already been absorbing water for three hours.
The storm took about 12 hours to pass. Mr. Cedar had been away on business and came home around 7 o'clock on Sunday morning. He slept for a while (I didn't) and then headed to the laundromat with me to try to salvage our bedding. Thankfully, the sheets and blankets were okay. The mattress and box spring are a lost cause. There was simply more water than one human being could keep up with. The super said we weren't his problem and the apartment management swore we were. I was awake from 9 a.m. on Saturday until about 1 a.m. on Monday.
The good news is that our complex is under new, competent management and they have been proactive in getting pictures and records of our damage. They have brought in an insurance adjuster to look at the apartment and we called the town building department to come in as well. You can still smell the mildew when you walk into my bedroom and my apartment has been declared untenable by the complex management. They are moving us into a new apartment and replacing what we lost. In the meantime, Mr. Cedar and I are sleeping on the sofabed in the living room and changing clothes in the bathroom because when he went to raise the blinds the Monday after the storm, they fell down, along with a ton of plaster. And of course, all this happens the week before I have a publisher's preview, an all-day program, another publisher's afternoon program, and a systemwide library meeting.
Now, I'm from the Midwest and I've seen my share of foul weather. I've seen floods and tornadoes and snowstorms. I've never been through a tropical storm in a building with windows that desperately needed replacing, though. Of course, I'm most glad that Beezus and Henry are okay and no one was hurt. It's just a giant pain in the ass though, all this.