So, I totally have a half-way (ok, all-the-way) dumbass story brought to you by yours truly. I know you're all still shocked from reading I've ever done anything stupid in my whole life, so I'll give you a moment to compose yourselves.
. . .
Feeling better? Ok, then. So we've been having some issues with our washing machine. Actually, take that back. The machine itself is fine. It's the hose that connects the water supply to the machine that's being a little a-hole these days. It keeps clogging and leaking. Which leads to water on the living room carpet. Which is annoying, but it's only a little water, and we've just gotten used to needing a towel beside the washer because the property management company/landlord (not sure who's really to blame) is a total a-hole as well and can't get a plumber out to the house who can fix it. Anyhow, I digress.
So, my very handy husband (seriously- he is uber handy) decides to try some things himself to stop the leaking hose. Don't ask me what these things were because I only half way paid attention. Something about a screen and removing residual soap from the hose. Anyhow, he instructs me not to do laundry for a full 24 after he completes said handy endeavors, and I dutifully comply (woot! I can put off laundry a whole nother day!). Sunday comes around, however, and I need clean undies for work, so I toss a load in and head out to the backyard to read.
I am majorly chilling in the sunshine when I hear the dog door flap and see the dog come flying around the corner of the house like a banshee. She's an odd little dog sometimes, so I just chalked up her behavior to normal Phineas-ness. Well, a few pages later, I have to pee (story of my dang life these days), so I head in. And immediately, I hear running water, and my first thought is "Hell, Sean's fix didn't work. I am going to have to call the annoying lady who yells into the phone from the property management company. Someone kill me." So I walk to the linen closet to get a towel for the floor.
As I step into the living room, my thoughts change to "F*CK! OMG! SEAN IS GOING TO KILL ME!" Evidently, he had not reattached the washer to the hose, and all the water that should have gone into the washer is now all over the motherflocking living room floor. I mean, it is a lake in there, people.
Note: This is not me. I am not nearly so bald, hairy, or un-round.
Sigh. I spent the next two hours with our little carpet washer thing sucking water out of the carpet a liter at a time. Kill me.
Thankfully Sean wasn't mad. I mean, don't get me wrong, he wasn't *happy* at all, but he didn't yell or seem too annoyed at me. But now our living room carpet's all torn up, and it smells like wet jankiness in there. Sean has undertaken replacing the carpet pad, so hopefully that works and it stops smelling so waterlogged gross in the house.
I am a moron. Get this babeh out of me- he's sapping all brain power.
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