The Great Sunday Night Flood: A Cautionary Tale

 

Let me set the scene: It’s Sunday night. The weekend is winding down, and I decide to tackle one last load of laundry in our apartment washer. You know, the kind that hooks up to the sink, drains into said sink, and sits on a base that must be locked into place.

Well. About that last part.

I, in my infinite wisdom (or maybe just distracted state), did not lock the base. And thus began the great flood of our humble abode. Water everywhere. Kitchen? Drenched. Living room? Oh yeah, it got in on the action too.

Fast-forward a few frantic minutes, and I’ve now used every single bath towel in the house to soak up the chaos. You never realize how many towels you own until you see them all, thoroughly soaked, piled into a sad, sopping heap. Oh, and fun fact: the mop we have is from the last flood we had and it needs a new foam thingy.  

Cue panicked trip to Home Depot, where I discover they no longer sell foam mops. Because of course they don’t. Instead, I return home armed with a wet-dry vac, ready to finish my clean-up operation.

But wait—there’s more!

Just as I’m about to tackle the remaining mess, my phone rings. It’s the property manager asking if we have a leak because the downstairs neighbors are reporting...

They have water in their apartment.

Facepalm.

Why does this have to happen on a Sunday night?

Why does this have to happen at all?
And most importantly—why is this washer possessed?!

If you need me, I’ll be rethinking all my life choices... and maybe Googling “how to perform an exorcism on a washing machine.”

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