Pretty much felt like Kevin Costner’s character in Waterworld this morning while navigating my way through the ocean that was my bathroom/hallway this morning.

Seriously.

The BF went to the bathroom before coming to bed, and the toilet was running. No problem, sometimes it does that. Usually works itself out. But NO, no. It was running all night until I stumbled upon the disaster this morning hoping to get ready for work. Running, and filling the tank with water. And then overflowing. And then spilling water everywhere.

So of course I freak out. Try to figure out how to turn the water off. Jiggle the handle a little bit, and it stops. It just stops. And I’m left with a giant puddle about the size of myself to clean up. And it has seeped through the floor and into the downstairs apartment. Awesome.

So the maintenance guy comes and is all nonchalantly “well, you stopped the leak. That’s the important part. Keep soaking up the water with towels.” And the landlord calls me, and is all “OK, I’ll touch base with Maintenance Guy and we’ll take care of it.” So I went to work. And then came home hours later to everything exactly how I left it.

I spent about 2-2.5 hours using a wet vac to try to clean up some of the water, soaked literally all of my towels, and a roll of paper towels. Now that we’re close to the 24 hour mark, I can practically see the mold growing. So that’s fun.

Whatever, apparently not a big deal at all. What do I know about leaks and water damage? Nothing, that’s what.

I can’t wait until I own my own home and any problem is my responsibility to fix. Because I will actually fix things.