The Walls are Crying…

Picture it…Sicily, 1945...or not, try 4am, I am startled out of bed by a ping, ping, ping. I assume this sound is the ceiling fan and it has shifted enough to create this annoying noise that has awoken me. I stumble to the spared bedroom in the dark of the early morning hours to find the box fan, move it to the master bedroom and turn it up as high as possible to drown out that annoying ping, ping, ping. 6:30am-alarm goes off, I can hear that ping, ping, ping. Barely awake, I struggle to make it to the shower to begin my morning routine to make it to work by 7:30am. More awake, but craving that morning coffee, yet to be brewed in my office later. I turn on lights in the master bedroom and my wall is crying. Water is just running down the wall onto the edge of my bed. The bed is soaked, the wall has a big bubble of water just waiting to burst, and I can hear that ping, ping, ping in the ceiling. Liek Shera, Princess of Power, I jump into action, pulling the bed away from the wall and moving everything else out. I put down a plastic bag and a couple of towels and called the landlord. As, I finish getting ready for work, I think to myself—This!—This is way I rent! Good Times.

And you thought there were going to be more pumpkin pics today—maybe tomorrow.