My enthusiasm on Friday at the thought of an entire weekend free from work obligations was consecutively mocked, spit upon, bruised, and then slowly murdered by the Powers That Be.

Friday I left work with a spring in my step and a smile on my face. I headed to the hardware store in search of a spark plug for my lawn mower and dawdled outside looking at flower displays and mentally planning my garden. I fielded a call from a friend of mine advising me of a thunderstorm watch in effect for the next 45 minutes. “Storm schmorm!” I replied. I glanced at the sky, satisfied that I may perhaps fit a bike ride in before dark (I had gotten my front tire repaired for the second time) and headed into the store to discover that my spark plug was not to be found at Ace Hardware.

Minutes later I stepped outside, noted the blackish-green sky and high winds, and was convinced that The Powers had unleashed Armageddon. I drove home cautiously amidst the high winds, hail, and pounding rain, arrived at my home to discover half of a forest resting in the front yard (thankfully the roof was safe) and that I was powerless (as in my electricity was out…though feelings of helplessness would later ensue).

Plans to grocery shop as well as plans to carelessly drink wine on someone’s (anyone’s) patio/deck soon dissipated, and I was left reading by candlelight and hoping my roof would stand up to the challenge. Eventually the worst (ha, ha) was over, my power was restored, and I spent the remaining evening cleaning my house and intermittently watching DVDs, convinced that I’d make up for my reclusive Friday night later in the weekend. After all, I thought, I have the entire weekend off. In fact, I had time spilling from my ears.

Saturday morning I woke rested and refreshed, despite yet another storm that had rolled in around three am. I dressed hurredly in my biking gear, ready to fit in a quick 20 miles before meeting Jessica for breakfast and later resuming my unfinished errands before going dancing later that night. I threw Zeus outside and went to grab my mountain bike when I checked my phone for missed calls or text messages. My only missed message went something like this:

“Either you went out last night and can’t get home or you’re stuck in the house all day. Have fun.”

My reply was something to the effect of:

“Son of a mother-fucking bitch!”

A walk to the end of my driveway would reveal the source of my ire. I was flooded in. At first it was the utter inconvenience of it that infuriated me. I had planned on grocery shopping Friday night but, having no power, couldn’t buy anything that needed to stay cold, so I postponed my trip. I was out of cigarettes. I had plans. Moments later, as I stared into the river at the end of my street, something else worried me. The water was still rising.

After a nervous breakdown or two I managed to convince Jessica to drive to the nearest point that she could get before the roads flooded. I kayaked to her and enjoyed the lunch and cigarettes that she bought me to get me through the day. (Thankfully) I decided not to hide my kayak under some brush and go with her for the day. I was too worried about the rising water, my gas and electricity, my car, and my dogs. I also didn’t want some punk tooling away in my kayak. After paddling home I tried to fight the panic associated with feeling so trapped, cleaned and watched a DVD, checked the water level, and tried to ration my cigarettes.

The situation only worsened. First my garage flooded, then my driveway. I moved my car four times to avoid the rising water. Then the front yard flooded, then the back. I had to follow my beagles around with a bucket of Pine Sol, they wouldn’t set a single paw outside. Then my basement started filling. The firemen brought a gas man in on one of their boats and had everyone’s gas shut off, but I was pretty worried about the electricity issues when the water in the basement was chest high.

I attempted to calm myself over the next few hours, convincing myself that all that I had to worry about was Stuff, and Stuff is replaceable. That was when I heard thunder, saw lightening, and realized that another storm was on its way. Lovely. I ended up staying awake past 3 a.m., kept an eye on my basement until the water started to recede (it made it all the way up the stairs), and then passed into oblivion. I resisted the urge to fill my pockets with rocks and slowly descend into the basement and instead decided to sleep.

By morning I discovered that the water was way down and actually managed to drive out via the street behind mine. I went to the grocery store and threw everything that looked appetizing into the cart before coming home and gorging. I refused to even look into my basement. Eventually my landlord knocked on my door and we began what would be seven grueling hours of hauling things out of the basement and dragging them to the curb. Most people have no idea how heavy a sleeping bag soaked in river water actually weighs, and I myself hoped never to find out. They’re heavy. After laughing at the discovery of Sam’s ex-wife’s rain-soaked wedding dress (oh wait, I’m still chuckling), I cracked open my Flood Relief Kit from the Red Cross and started with the squeegie. Then the sub pump (or whatever the hell it’s called) broke and there is STILL water down there, trapped until my landlord takes care of it.

After the basement I attacked the garage, and I was not altogether dismayed to discover the mess inside. That’s what you get for storing your crap at my house, folks. The lawnmower is completely destroyed as well. There is still much work to be done, and I should have taken the day off today but I hate to waste vacation time to deal with more basement slime. Hopefully my hot water tank will be working at some point today. The ice cold shower that I had to take last night and again this morning almost put me over the edge.

And the source of the real salt in the wounds? During my claustrophobic hell on Saturday I decide to put my newly fixed front tire on my bike and see if I could manage to find a path through the woods and out of the valley so that I could get the hell out of my house. I walked through the nasty water to my car and grabbed the tire out of my back seat so that I could put it on my bike and try to make a go of it, when what should I discover?

It was flat.