And Adding Insult to Injury...

I didn't post about it here, but some of you know that there was an electrical fire in my apartment building last Monday. It was in an apartment on the 2nd floor, and I live on the 4th. The firemen evacuated the building at about 8 am, and let us in about 20 minutes or so later. Not terribly disruptive. It was very smoky in my apartment on Monday, but the smoke and smell had dissipated by Tuesday. They sent 4 fire trucks and shut down all of the street, which seemed excessive.

Well, I was woken up at about 2:30 am this morning because my roommates were yelling. I really thought I would kill them if they were yelling about the Philadelphia Eagles again. But no. I came out of my room, and the kitchen floor was an inch deep with water. It was flowing from the bathroom, because the hot water pipe under the sink had burst.

A plumber came out (eventually) and turned the water off in our apartment. He came back this morning at 8 and said he'd be done in a half hour. Great. I called my boss to tell him I'd be late today, and went back to sleep. An hour later, the plumber finished and I was able to get into the shower. I was only about an hour late, and I would've been in sooner, except for my hobbling and the Red Sox parade jamming the T full of overly enthusiastic idiots, most of whom were cutting school.

I'm really hoping this completes the bad luck trifecta and I can get on with my life.

(Oh, and the doctor told me to elevate my ankle, ice it, and take ibuprofen. I'm assuming it's not broken, because they let me leave the hospital without a cast.)

Comedy is Tragedy that Happens to Other People. Or to Me.

It's Monday morning, and if yours has started like mine has (forgot my T pass, so I get to pay $4 to take the subway instead!), then you could use a little bit of a laugh. I'm going to invite you to laugh at my expense.

So, yesterday, I realized that I could no longer put off doing laundry any more. I decided to do just the lights/darks, and to do towels/sheets in another trip, because that's a lot to carry to the laundromat. Which is the most expensive laundromat ever, wtf? Anyway. I'm all done with my laundering, and start walking back to my apartment. It's like a five minute walk, not bad. Carrying my laundry in the little pop-up hamper, my brain full of thoughts of tidying my room and actually putting things away where they belong. (No, I'm serious. Stop laughing!)

And then my phone rings. So I dig it out of my pocket and answer it, and it's my friend calling to go to the Garment District and go a-costuming. I still needed a few final touches for my costume (flapper), so I am all for it, and we are just setting up our plans when a family is coming down the sidewalk. I always get out of the way of larger groups by going to the edge of the curb. This is not really the best of ideas when you are a.) on the phone, b.) carrying your laundry, and c.) have a backpack full of detergent on your back.

My right ankle betrayed me. It was always the good ankle--I've sprained my left ankle twice, and my left knee once. Perhaps it was jealous. I don't know. It gave out. I went down. The hamper went flying (though luckily not my expensively cleaned clothes!). The phone went flying...

...and landed an inch from the edge of the sewer grate.

Ladies and gentlemen, I may be the luckiest ankle-sprainer in the world. I haven't gone to the doctor's yet (trying to make an appointment), so I don't have confirmation, but the bruising, swelling, and general pain are usually pretty good indicators.

ETA: Thanks to everyone who helped me yesterday. And didn't laugh (too much) at my gimpiness.