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the_dala at 02:32pm on 17/12/2004
the_dala at 02:32pm on 17/12/2004Today I have approached previously unimagined levels of asshattry.
Today...I broke the basement.
So, Friday morning, first of break, and naturally my thoughts turn to the two full baskets of laundry sitting in the utility room. I pop in a load of jeans and sweatshirts -- no problem. I transfer them to the dryer and load some more colors, in the process unknowingly dropping a pair of underwear (black) in the sink. I wander out to the basement to watch TV. The tail end of a Season Three "Gilmore Girls" episode under my belt, I check the laundry before I go to take a shower.
Stepping into an inch of water.
Moment of panic. Phone call to the mother.
Mom: Dr. R____ and associates, how may I help you?
Dala: OMIGOD MOM I FLOODED THE BASEMENT.
Mom: *pause* The whole basement?
Dala: No, just the utility room. BUT OMG THERE'S WATER EVERYWHERE WHAT DO I DO.
Mom: *sigh* I'll be home in five minutes.
So, damage assessed: just most of the utility room, not very deep, far from the five inches stretching across the whole of the basement that my parents have done in the past. We move wet piles of dirty clothes out of the way and, once my mother has managed to convince me that it will not electrocute me, drag out the water-vacuum-thingy. I spend an hour sucking up all the water, relocating wet stuff, kicking the stupid washing machine. Eventually all is well and I'm ready to do the extra 239875 loads of laundry that have been necessitated by my fuck-up. Towels first.
All the towels.
Because I'm stupid.
The towels clog up in the washing machine and it starts emitting these strained clicks before finally shutting off. I call my mother's office again.
Tracee: Did you break something else?
Dala: Yup.
Mom: Hello?
Dala: The washing machine stopped.
Mom: What?
Dala: It just stopped.
Mom: You put too much in, didn't you?
Dala:...maybe.
Mom: Jesus. Okay, try starting it again.
Dala: I did. No luck. It's dead.
Mom: Well, maybe you blew the fuse -- do you know where the fusebox is?
Dala: ACK DON'T MAKE ME, I WILL END UP BLOWING UP THE ENTIRE NEIGHBORHOOD.
In the end I removed a few (sopping wet, wrapped around the grooved thing in the center of the machine as tightly as I'd be wrapped around Johnny Depp should he ever be unfortunate enough to encounter me on the streets) towels from the machine and start it again. So, all fixed. Mostly.
I am so domestically challenged, it's not even funny. Well, okay, it probably is a bit funny if you're not me.
GOD. I'm just going to go sit in the basement and stare at the machines in case they spontaneously combust or something.
Why is there no mood option for "stupid," "moronic," "dumb," etc???
Today...I broke the basement.
So, Friday morning, first of break, and naturally my thoughts turn to the two full baskets of laundry sitting in the utility room. I pop in a load of jeans and sweatshirts -- no problem. I transfer them to the dryer and load some more colors, in the process unknowingly dropping a pair of underwear (black) in the sink. I wander out to the basement to watch TV. The tail end of a Season Three "Gilmore Girls" episode under my belt, I check the laundry before I go to take a shower.
Stepping into an inch of water.
Moment of panic. Phone call to the mother.
Mom: Dr. R____ and associates, how may I help you?
Dala: OMIGOD MOM I FLOODED THE BASEMENT.
Mom: *pause* The whole basement?
Dala: No, just the utility room. BUT OMG THERE'S WATER EVERYWHERE WHAT DO I DO.
Mom: *sigh* I'll be home in five minutes.
So, damage assessed: just most of the utility room, not very deep, far from the five inches stretching across the whole of the basement that my parents have done in the past. We move wet piles of dirty clothes out of the way and, once my mother has managed to convince me that it will not electrocute me, drag out the water-vacuum-thingy. I spend an hour sucking up all the water, relocating wet stuff, kicking the stupid washing machine. Eventually all is well and I'm ready to do the extra 239875 loads of laundry that have been necessitated by my fuck-up. Towels first.
All the towels.
Because I'm stupid.
The towels clog up in the washing machine and it starts emitting these strained clicks before finally shutting off. I call my mother's office again.
Tracee: Did you break something else?
Dala: Yup.
Mom: Hello?
Dala: The washing machine stopped.
Mom: What?
Dala: It just stopped.
Mom: You put too much in, didn't you?
Dala:...maybe.
Mom: Jesus. Okay, try starting it again.
Dala: I did. No luck. It's dead.
Mom: Well, maybe you blew the fuse -- do you know where the fusebox is?
Dala: ACK DON'T MAKE ME, I WILL END UP BLOWING UP THE ENTIRE NEIGHBORHOOD.
In the end I removed a few (sopping wet, wrapped around the grooved thing in the center of the machine as tightly as I'd be wrapped around Johnny Depp should he ever be unfortunate enough to encounter me on the streets) towels from the machine and start it again. So, all fixed. Mostly.
I am so domestically challenged, it's not even funny. Well, okay, it probably is a bit funny if you're not me.
GOD. I'm just going to go sit in the basement and stare at the machines in case they spontaneously combust or something.
Why is there no mood option for "stupid," "moronic," "dumb," etc???
pissed off
(no subject)
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BAHAHAHA!
If you want to laugh at me, one time I went to class, closed the door, and two steps later realized I'd forgotten my key.
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For instance, you could have accidentally dropped a cleaning brush into the toilet, causing it to become lodged into the pipes, eventually causing the toilet to explode in the night, in turn resulting in you waking up to having your entire apartment home to be under between 1 and 4 inches of water.
That would be worse, wouldn't it. especially if you had had a lot of books on the floor.
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::gives you Norringtons to play with::
It happens to the best of us.
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I hypothesize that by the time one has finished looking for said moods, "pissed off" works quite nicely.