This is my home:

I don’t know what I did in my life to deserve leakyness everywhere. It started in the Asheville Gracelyn House. An old brick mansion converted into five apartments, I assumed that there may be some maintenance issues associated with living in a house nearly 100 years old. The hardwood floors (perfect for Bogie to bat around mice toys), faux fireplace, and quirky L-shaped layout was endearing, despite one of the tiniest bathrooms ever. This house was also the first house that “belonged” to Derrick, Bogie and me as a family, so I couldn’t “hate on it” too badly.

Until the ceiling basically collapsed. I came home one day from work, and Derrick was walking around in his underpants. This was the first night the heat cut on for the year, and for some reason the last person who adjusted the “communal thermostat” upstairs set it for 96 degrees. We are almost positive that this extreme heat affected the pipes in some way, as within the next week a mysterious leak appeared in our computer room. Of course, in the room with the most valuable electronics. The leak spread at one point to our bathroom light fixture, so we were horrified about turning on that light and risking electrocution.

We lived without ceiling in part for a month.

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