Fear the Crab

At 0300 I woke up with butt cramps, and spent the better part of the hour on my thinking-seat contemplating the similarities and differences between each gender’s painful designs in lower orifices. I don’t think I fell back asleep until 0420, which considering how I had to get ready for work the next hour, I didn’t expect anything extraordinary when I closed my eyes.

Then I had to go to the bathroom again. I barely had enough seated time to examine the irregularities of my toenails when I noticed some water pooled along the far wall. When the fuck did this happen? Was it a problem with the flusher? The valve? Did water from my last adventure spill out, and if so, fuck, my feet are in it.

I figured the easiest way to tell would be to reach down and touch it, and hope for a chlorinated aroma. Hell, I’d be washing my hands afterward, anyway. Suddenly a cold drop of water hit my outstretched arm, and I was immediately made aware of a rushing sound above my head. A cascade of rotten ceiling material fell on my head and a flood of water poured out. A frickin’ water pipe had burst in the crawlspace. Great. More repairs.

I put my soaked shorts back on (because I’m not going to cuss and throw a tantrum in my boxers), and stepped out of the waterfall to inspect the damage. Each gout of spilling water was bringing more of the ceiling down with it, and immediately the fall-away of wood and plaster spread to the walls around the bathtub. I barely formed enough of a fetid thought to try and shut off the water with the outside valve when the room crumbled around me.

At least it wasn’t raining, outside. The stars were visible in the cloudless night, despite the noise from the ceiling bulb. Standing in water with working electrical wires about is probably not the most ideal way to lose weight, I figured, so I made haste to the garage door. I don’t know why I didn’t choose to just walk out the gaping hole in the wall. I think it may have been the swarm of cockroaches that scattered with the new exposure to manly ways. Crap on a stick, I wasn’t about to cross that.

Opening the garage door, I encountered resistance to my handyman foray when two miniature terriers tried to strong-arm me away. I don’t know what they wanted, but I’m pretty sure that if they came from the outside, they had no business inside. I summoned my alpha-male dominance to try and overpower the foot-long dogs, and they rewarded me with gnashing bites to my hands. Yes, they were foot-long dogs; I said they were miniature.

I was reminded of the water problem, so I chucked the dogs over the fence into the yard. I figured if they wanted inside the house, they’d have to work it out themselves. I stepped to the corner, toed off the heavy metal lid with my tingly fingers, dug away at the dirt surrounding the pipe, and turned the water valve 180 to shut off the flow.

About then, I realized that while I had stopped the water, I had no way of repairing the extensive damage to the bathroom.

Thankfully the whole ordeal flushed itself away with the chiming of the 0500 alarm. How the fuck do I get these wild and crazy dreams in the span of a few minutes?