(no subject)

[spudtater]

...and the heavens did open, and pour rain without rest for forty days and forty nights.

Well, for 'heavens' read 'the laundry room ceiling', and 'forty days and forty nights' read 'about an hour or so'.

So there I was, watching Saturday's episode of Dr Who with galaxy_girl00 and not bothering anybody, when a distinct 'bang' emanated from the general region of the ceiling, followed by the sound of something collapsing. "Something has gone 'bang' upstairs," I tell myself, "and it serves them right for waking me up every day for a week with their drilling and hammering at unreasonable times of the early morning (i.e. before noon)."

There was quiet for a while, and then the sound of trickling water makes itself known. This has happened before, and proved to be the rather old and decrepid pipe outside the flat bursting a leak and pouring water all down the outside of the flat. I ignored the phenomenon, and resolved to have a look at after urgent matters in hand were resolved — that is, after Dr Who was finished.

But the leak obstinately refused to quieten down and leave me in peace, preferring instead to grow louder and more urgent, with an added splashing noise that sounded disturbingly close. I opened the laundry door to see if I could see what was going on.

"Fuck".

I am not in general a fan of swearing, but there are times when it is excusable, nay obligatory. Seeing your ceiling light doing its best impersonation of a hosepipe in full flow is one of them.

Water was pouring through the ceiling, via the electric cables; mostly down the light fitting, but also through the smoke alarm and various other openings; all in all giving the entire room a good hosing down. galaxy_girl00 prompty directed me to remove all electric and otherwise non-waterproof items from the room, and place emptied bins underneath the main streams of water. I assisted with the damage control planning with helpful contributions such as "Argh! Water! Loads of it! What are we going to doooo!?"

With a forlorn glance at the computer, paused mid-episode, I proceeded to the fuse box and flipped the big switch. The house plunged into the dim silence of the dark ages; those times before the invention of electric lights, refrigerators, and internet gateway computers which hum reassuringly at all hours of the day and night.

The water, meanwhile, had got bored of falling into stategically-placed buckets, and had decided it wanted in to my room proper. It conducted a stealth operation under cover of wallpaper and recce'd extensive territory behind my desk. Upon noticing this, I delayed no longer and lept swiftly into action. This time there was no time for dawdling: computers were at risk. Said computer was swiftly unplugged, and was granted temporarily asylum in gominokouhai's room.

The landlord, in his inimitable fashion, proved completely uncontactable. However, the council was called, and a team was sent out. The water then decided to trickle to a halt, roughly five minutes before the "water ingress team" arrived. Subsequent investigation revealed that the water was actually coming from two flats above. Imagining the state of the flat directly above is left as an exercise for the reader.

Deciding that I rather fancied the idea of electricity, running water, and a non-ominously-waterlogged roof over my head, I proceeded to galaxy_girl00's house to camp out on the sofa. Yes, I have joined the ranks of the homeless, the displaced, the of-no-fixed-abode. Soon I shall cultivate a bushy beard, long, straggly hair, and a pungent aroma. Come to think of it, I'm two-thirds there already.

	While the freeze-frame effect of the stream of water captured in a moment of time as a series of prolate spheroids is artful and fascinating, it does rather understate the amount of water which was coming down. However, I did manage to take a nice video that more accurately portrayed the effect. I may make it available soon.
	The path of the water, as described in the article. The Escher on my wall is, I can reassure any panicked readers, not an original.
	Another view of the light, and an altogether sodden ceiling. You can just about make out the drops of water hanging off that doorframe; goodness knows how much damage has been done to that.
	Water forming an encampment behind my desk, just ready to burst out and attack innocent electronic equipments.

Now read scattergather's brilliant account of the proceedings. It is most excellent.

Comments

[galaxy-girl00.livejournal.com]

And the wost thing about the whole proceedings....

We still haven't seen Dr Who! *sob*

[markadm.livejournal.com]

I think I'm vaguely glad I moved out...!
If I recall he was often unreachable when I was there too...