Once upon a time, a young man was sitting happily in his apartment, typing away on iChat. All was well, for he had not so much to do at the moment. He realized he needed to get something from a different room, and when he stood, his bare foot felt wetness in the carpet.

“The skylight is condensing,” he thought, before realizing that he wasn’t under the skylight. He turned, slowly, to see a growing pool of water under the washing machine. Terrified and in a panic, he called his roommate, who was not at home at the time. As his roommate rushed home, he went downstairs, a knot in his stomach. As he had feared, water was raining into the kitchen.

Towel after towel was thrown at the flood, but nothing seemed to be working. After countless towels, many borrowed from neighbors, they started to see a dent. The roommate had to leave for work, leaving the young man alone and depressed about the situation.

The roommate’s parents rushed to help, thankfully, with the magical wet-dry vac, and with their help, the kitchen was once again dry, leaving only a very wet carpet upstairs.

Monday came, and the workday came and went. The young man came home to find five industrial fans and a dehumidifier upstairs, but at least the washer was fixed.

Tuesday brought a dry carpet, but the fans remained to dry the under layers and ensure that everything was dried out completely. Wednesday brought much the same.

On Thursday, the young man snapped, and could not handle the fans anymore. He wanted his office back to normal. Alas, it was not to be. Much unplugging and turning off ensued, and gave way to a fanless night.

Friday came, and upon returning from work, the young man was gratified to see the fans gone and the carpet cleaned. It didn’t take him long to return everything to its rightful place. Everything was once again well, leaving the young man to carry on as he had the week before, feeling fortunate that none of his stuff got wrecked.

And that young man was me.