Renter’s remorse

Just in case any of my buds out there are under the illusion I maintain a glamorous existence, let me share a little story.

About an hour ago, after allowing myself to leisurely oversleep (just a bit), I scratched myself out of bed to jump in the shower. I instantly noticed that the water that I normally like pretty hot was bordering on scalding, and tried to adjust…I noticed then the water was just getting greater and greater force. I went to turn it off, and couldn’t…the faucet just kept on turning, nothing happening!

I was scared. I jumped out of the shower, and soaking wet (not to mention hair in a mass of suds), threw on my robe and ran down the hall to bang on my basement door.

My building is interesting. We do have a live-in super: He however does not have a phone, or a door bell, or any way of reaching him beyond leaving a note under his door, which he will find and appear to fix pretty quickly. I did not have time for a note: Before I knew it, iZac and all my pretty pink things were in danger of drowning!!!

I banged, he did not answer, I ran back and finally the shower (pretty magically) went off. However, the lever is still loosely turning, so I am pretty sure at some point it may turn back on! This leaves me in fear of leaving my prison-apt, and unsure of the problem or how to proceed.

(And part of me is already blaming myself for balancing my caddy of fancy bath soaps and gels on said caddy the last three months.)

I have left two notes, and sit here looking a-fright (in fright)…

(Perhaps I killed puppies in a past life? Explained it for Angelus.)