AHHHHHHHHHHHH.........................

Bliss. Pure unadulterated bliss. The weather is glorious. It's 70 degrees, breezy, not humid, and I can wear clothes head to toe!

This is MY kind of summer. Beaches? Bikinis? Shorts and tank tops? Be damned!!!

Give me my jeans and Chucks any old day. Oh, and the ratty old t-shirt from the thrift shop. Low maintenance mama. That's me.

Well...the shower went off without a hitch. Unless you count the flooding in our laundry room. From the ground. UGH! I guess it's karma for bitching about having to do the shower in the first place. I probably deserved it. (For those of you who missed that post *I deleted it*, I hosted a bridal shower for my cousin who lives in DC. She was in for the week.)

Our drain that goes out to the nether regions of the sewer system, seemed to have picked THIS day to back up. Oh lucky day. The day I used the garbage disposal more then I should. The day I washed tons of dishes. The day many an "older" women used my powder room. The day I had 30 people over for a bridal shower. And I had wine. Thank God for the many many MANY bottles of wine my cousin Liz brought over.

I called Ryan and gave him the OH-SHIT-THE-BASEMENT-IS-FLOODED panic call. And I called my neighbor for a wet/dry vac. Apparently we had one, but damn if I knew where it was or how to use it.

So after seeing the basement, it looked like someone threw up fresh herbs and milk, I wet/dry vacced the shit out of it. My sister helped thank the Lord. My mom finished up the rest of the shower business. Then Ryan got home. He promptly took over. Angry as hell cause now the carpet is trashed. Angry at NO ONE, but angry nonetheless. Poor husband. Here he was doing me a favor by taking the kids out of the house for hours, and then gets a call that, "OH flibberty jibbit! The basement is flooded. And with food." *gag* (No foul language was being used as I didn't want to offend any of the 75+ club in my living room.)

Shower....good. Basement.....bad.

Ryan said it's because, for "some fucking reason", the drain in the laundry room is the highest point in the floor.

Sounds like a lot of work to me. But it also sounds fucking stupid. Damn living in a swampy area.