Monday, July 22, 2002

And People Think My Life is Boring...

I was awakened at 11:00 this morning[*] by a very loud, very mechanical rumbling sound located about four feet from my bed. Could that possibly be what I thought it was, I wondered, or would that be too much to hope for? I decided I really ought to get up and investigate, so I grabbed my glasses... and immediately met with one of those little signs that tell you "today is a good day to just stay curled up under the covers." Namely, the lens popped out of my eyeglasses. OK, I thought to myself, no problem, I'll just fix this real quick and then... wait, where's the screw? Yes, you guessed it, no screw. And, of course, by the same prodigous lack of foresight that leads to things like me not buying flood insurance, I didn't have any spare eyeglass screws in the house. Lovely.

So, one-eyed, bleary, and bathrobe-clad, I poked my head out the front door to see what was going on. And, hallelujah, that noise was what I thought it was. For various fairly obvious reasons, I didn't get a good look at it, but there was definitely some kind of very large truck-mounted pumping device in what passes for my driveway, and someone[**] was busily sucking the water out of my front yard. Which was good, because it was starting to sprinkle again.

At this point, I did the only reasonable thing I could do. I went back to bed. Not that it was easy getting back to sleep with that noise going on, but sleeping is one of the things I'm good at, so I managed it. I woke up again about 3:30, still semi-blind, but at least well rested, and took another monocular gander out the door. And, yes, for the first time in two days, I could actually see the ground in front of my front steps! Or at least, the mud that used to be the ground in front of my front steps. There's still quite a bit of water, but it's now at least possible to walk from the door to the car without actually getting your feet submerged, which is a major improvement.

Somewhat cheered, I fortified myself with some coffee (which, fortunately for me, I could make blindfolded if I had to), threw on some clothes, and went out to the store to buy an eyeglass repair kit. This was actually rather more problematical than it sounds, since I can't drive without my glasses, couldn't find a way to reliably hold the frame together without the screw, and was extremely reluctant to drive with one eye shut. (Indeed, the lack of depth perception proved disturbing enough that I spent most of the "morning" walking around with both eyes open and the glasses off. The familiar freakiness of the world being a great big blur was actually marginally preferable to this strange new form of freakiness.) Fortunately, being the resourceful and independent person that I am, I easily found a solution: I walked. I may not be able to recognize friends and family members at a distance of five feet without my glasses on, but I can at least see well enough to avoid being hit by a car. I was able to get the kit and make the repair right there at the store, using the little table so thoughtfully provided by Smith's for those who wish to savor their freshly-baked pastries while soaking in that incomparable grocery-store ambiance. Or whatever.

Anyway, all in all, I guess I've come out ahead today, even if I do have the strong urge to listen to that little voice that spoke to me this morning and just curl back up under the covers. Not that all is sweetness and light, of course. Instead of having a front yard that is completely underwater, I now have a front yard composed of stinking, sucking mud. And I use those adjectives advisedly. The stuff really does stink, a disgusting low-tide reek that is, in some ways, the worst aspect of the whole thing. And as for the sucking part, we are definitely talking about the kind of mud that tries its damnedest to pull your shoes off. I realized yesterday, in fact, that guaging the water level by comparing it to the bottom front step, as I had been doing, wasn't really terribly useful because the stairs (which aren't actually attached to the body of the trailer) were themselves sinking into the mud. I hadn't realized just how much, though, until the water was gone. The bottom step itself is only just above the mud, at least on one side. It's going to be lots fun trying to pull them out, I'm sure.

Once I could see again, I was intending to check under the trailer to make sure everything there was OK. But I found when I got home that I simply could not face the idea of wading through all that muck in order to do a thorough inspection. For the moment, all I can say is that the floor is still level and there's no mud showing up in my drinking water, so I'm regarding those as positive signs.

Meanwhile, I now need to wash out all the bowls and buckets I was using to catch those leaks from the ceiling, and all the rags and towels I used to mop water off the floor, and all the...

Ah, forget it. I think I'd rather go curl up under the covers.

[*] You may think that's an awfully late hour to complain about being woken up at (not that I am complaining!), but, if so, you obviously don't work nights.

[**] I was unable to ascertain whether they were sent by the city or by my landlord, but, really, who cares?

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