Soggy Bottom Boy

While I may not be a Man of Constant Sorrow, I'm too tired to express any kind of overly gleeful emotion.

Tonight, I was watching an AJ Styles vs. D-Lo Brown TNA match from the night they had the 3-match series, when I felt my ample bottom become soggy. I got up, looked at the couch cushion, and there was a significant wet spot below me. I checked to see if my anus was bleeding, which wasn't the case. I'd hate to have that happen again.

I ran upstairs and got my dad, and we discovered the source: A leaky water bottle. I'd put a full one on the cooler a few hours earlier, and didn't notice it casually emptying all over the place. The water ended up going under the couch, and soaking into the bottom, which was pressed against the carpet, thanks to being naturally low to the ground, possessing broken springs, and having my girth atop it.

I'd just vacuumed the room earlier in the day, including under the couch, which meant the area Dad and I were working in was thankfully relatively clean. After seeing the holes in the carpet that the broken springs had generated, we discussed finally dumping the tan plaid wondercouch. The case was closed when, in addition to being old, stinky, ripped, dirty, broken, uncomfortable, and, in places, pointy (all stuff I can deal with, to an extent), the old girl took an unexpected bath. It's now sitting in the basement, where it can drip on a less damageable surface, awaiting certain garbage truck doom. Unfortunately, with our city's 6-weekday trash collection cycle, and the previous day being this past Friday, we have to wait until a week from Monday to dispose of the eyesore.

Dad and I sopped up as much of the almost 18 litres of water as we could with a few mops, towels, and an unsuccessful run with a hair dryer, and the dehumidifier and fan are trying to manage the rest.

Should anything grow in or below the carpet, as a result of this leaky incident, it's sure to become fast fungus friends with the mold growing somewhere in the bathroom. A few weeks ago, we had another occasion of water escaping its intended home, where the shower contents spilled into the rest of the room. Except this previous time, I didn't notice until days later. When Dad lifted up a few plastic tiles, he discovered a heinous coat of black crud along the wooden floor. During the shower tile fixup, he removed any visible mold, but apparently there's still something in there, quite possibly under the shower.

I've already noticed a few symptoms that some websites listed as indicative of mold-related illness. Breathing problems, trouble swallowing (I've almost constantly had something caught in my throat for the past half week), red eyes, trouble concentrating, and... umm... trouble concentrating. I'm not sure what we're going to do about it, because tearing up the shower and/or floor isn't a likely option. I may have to leave my dank basement hole for awhile, because I don't have much room to be more ill than usual.

Between the water cleanup, and the previous room cleanup, I'm kinda spent. I probably should've had the sense to go to bed by now, instead of writing this, poking fun at Alana's choice of baby names, and reading something totally hideous. But, you know, trouble concentrating.