Today I went down to the basement intending to get some of the wooden shelving to bring up and use as bookcases to replace ones I’ve sold. I was greeted by big puddles of water leaking from the water heater, and it had been leaking for some time, evidently. A whole slew of cardboard boxes were soaked and it smelled dank.

Plumbing problems that cause damage and similar events sort of send me into a freakout. It makes me feel like the world is ending. This is not the only big plumbing problem here, and they still haven’t repaired a previous one; it involves replacing most of a bathroom floor and putting a new seal around a toilet. That one bathroom hasn't been usable for about a year. I got on the phone to my sister and soon she was on her way here to see if she could help. I know water heaters only last so long, and this one was probably way beyond its time, but this happening on top of other stresses did not make me react well.

I stopped crying, called and left a message with the landlord, then got garbage bags and threw out boxes of old books and papers. Mostly, that’s what got soaked, books. Tomorrow after they replace the water heater I can clean off the cardboard still stuck to the floor. My sister helped me clear things so the plumber can get in here easily with equipment -- although it won't be until tomorrow. No one could come today, my landlord said. His guys were all watching the Steeler game. In my head I slightly murdered him.

But after talking with my sister and moving stuff, I thought maybe it was kind of a good thing to happen, because I’ve been delaying cleaning out this house. And now I have a ton of bags out the door, and am planning to take a bunch of boxes of items to Goodwill. When a flood happens, or something like this, the prospect of not having so much stuff seems wonderful and gives me the energy to get things out of here.

I have cold water but no hot for now.