Okay, Fate, now it feels personal
Dateline, almost an hour ago:
I'm almost - ALMOST - asleep when I suddenly hear a torrent of water rushing SOMEWHERE. As I don't have any windows open and it's mostly clear outside, my initial thought that it's just a really hefty rainstorm doesn't last for long. So I pry myself out of bed, go tromping out into the hall and discover -
- that the hot water heater is spewing water like Old fucking Faithful. The spout on the front had broken off somehow - been shot across the room, techinically - and left behind a big gaping maw spilling out water at a rate comparable only to Niagra friggin' Falls.
It takes the combined brain power of two half-asleep adults to manage to get the water turned off (valve in the basement closet, and you have to turn it tight enough to break your wrist [not literally, no injuries were incurred in the course of this mayhem] to get the water off). By that time the half of my habitat that usually doesn't flood is standing in water, the hall is soaked, and the laundry room floor is, well, working on becoming an inground swimming pool (luckily, it has a drain. It's gone down on its own).
I've gotten the water cleaned up as well as I can, having used every towel in the house. We've called the gas company to figure out how to turn off the gas to the tank. We'll be calling the plumber bright and early tomorrow.
In the meantime, I'm going to go try to get back to sleep now.
I'm almost - ALMOST - asleep when I suddenly hear a torrent of water rushing SOMEWHERE. As I don't have any windows open and it's mostly clear outside, my initial thought that it's just a really hefty rainstorm doesn't last for long. So I pry myself out of bed, go tromping out into the hall and discover -
- that the hot water heater is spewing water like Old fucking Faithful. The spout on the front had broken off somehow - been shot across the room, techinically - and left behind a big gaping maw spilling out water at a rate comparable only to Niagra friggin' Falls.
It takes the combined brain power of two half-asleep adults to manage to get the water turned off (valve in the basement closet, and you have to turn it tight enough to break your wrist [not literally, no injuries were incurred in the course of this mayhem] to get the water off). By that time the half of my habitat that usually doesn't flood is standing in water, the hall is soaked, and the laundry room floor is, well, working on becoming an inground swimming pool (luckily, it has a drain. It's gone down on its own).
I've gotten the water cleaned up as well as I can, having used every towel in the house. We've called the gas company to figure out how to turn off the gas to the tank. We'll be calling the plumber bright and early tomorrow.
In the meantime, I'm going to go try to get back to sleep now.