And 3 is the magic number.
I woke up this morning and found my den flooded with hot water.
I called and internet searched gazillions of people and cut the story short it was not coming from upstairs, but the one above. It is stopped now and am off from work (how could I go in, the ceiling look as though it will give in at any minute,) wanting to stuff my face with chocolate because it might make me feel comforted!
Anyway, when you live in one place for years the house just gathers baggage, like exes (when I say exes that includes ex anything, like friends, neighbours and all that) who keep coming around to visit you, and electoral register cards with all your exes names on, and holes on the floor and that wine stains you made 3 yrs ago. This time it's a fucked up ceiling. It is time to get a builder in. Man, feels like things are constantly breaking down around here, the place is getting old.
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