Part Two: Two by Two

Finally, Brianna called me back and headed over. Jodi called and provided the motherly support I was longing for (my own mom was at work, so I had texted her but not called). Eventually, Fonda also texted and helped ease my nerves as we cracked a few jokes. 

Somehow during all of the chaos I managed to turn off the stove burners that contained a fleeting memory of a once delightful snow day.

Fifteen minutes later my landlord came to my rescue. Or so I thought, until he discovered the knob to turn the building's water off was frozen. While he called the city, the water was seeping into every room in my apartment, so I hurried to remove important items up to any open space I could find. I raced around as the water permeated all but 4 square feet in the corner of my bedroom.

Meanwhile, my landlord attempted to shovel water out my front door. As the water hit the concrete it froze instantly, because there was a below 0 windchill that morning. It was better than being in my apartment though, I suppose.

At long last, Brianna walked in and it was as though the calvary had arrived. By then my nerves needed a friendly face more than I needed help moving things. I had already crammed my sentimental possessions onto every elevated area I could find. Two by two, or so it seemed, help started arriving to get things done. 

As if on cue, the city had gotten the water turned off. I had a sense of relief knowing the 3 inches of water wasn't going to be rising anymore. My landlord offered Bri and I the idea to use tupperware containers to get legs of furniture out of the water. (Brilliant idea that I highly recommend!)

As the owner and landlord assessed the building damage, I called my insurance company to make a claim. My dad called to let me know he had taken off of work and was coming down to help.

A little later, Jodi texted to let me know there was free McAlister's at the high school. She was heading there with her daughter, they'd pick some up for Bri and me, then be on there way over with lunch and 2 more sets of helping hands. (My once glorious idea of a pancake breakfast had never panned out. No coffee had been consumed. It's a miracle I was functioning.)

To appease my very concerned landlord, I finally decided it would be a good time to put some socks, shoes, and pants on instead of the bare feet and shorts I had been wearing all morning. (To this day, his biggest worry is the lack of warmth I provided my feet. Cold, bare feet were more appealing to me than soggy socks!)

Once again I was gaining control over my life.

The apartment owner decided it would be best to rip out the waterlogged carpet and replace it. Even when the carpet cleaners insisted once dry it should be fine, he remained adamant to replace it.

Bri, Jodi, Abi, and I packed up all of my decorations into plastic tubs so they wouldn't accidentally get broken when furniture was moved. They kept things coming my way to decide if I wanted to try to salvage them or count them a loss. With all the help, the initial clean-up seemed to move quickly.

Around 2 o'clock, my calvary dispersed. The carpet men were in the beginning stages of drying my carpet, so I left to get a cup of coffee and a shower at Bri's house. (If you know me, then you'll know that I usually have 2 cups of coffee in the morning and I had, had none yet that day. Even more shocking, while driving to Starbucks I highly considered forgetting about the coffee altogether. My feet were tingling and frozen, like the coldest my body has ever felt. Which is also an impressive feat, because my hands are always cold. But in the end, coffee won. Priorities!)

By the time I was caffeinated, warm, and clean, my dad had arrived in Webb City. I met him at my apartment around 4. I was amazed when we entered. The men were gone, the carpet was ripped up, and there were industrial sized fans and de-humidifiers in each room.

My dad, being a typical man, assessed every nook and cranny for damage. We wanted to make it easier on the carpet installers, as well as make sure nothing else was damaged in the process, so we moved every plastic tub and small piece of furniture into my 2 bathrooms.

No, I did not claim my pancake on 
insurance. Although, I really wanted 
to just for kicks and giggles.

While we gathered any trash that had been left behind, I pointed out my pancake to my dad. There it sat, untouched, in the skillet on the stove, right where I had left it that morning. It was slightly dark brown on one side with chocolate chips precisely poked into the center. Sigh. My dad and I got a good laugh about the pancake as I joked I needed a picture of it so I could claim it on insurance.

At 7, both mentally and physically exhausted, my dad and I went to grab a bite to eat at Culver's before he made the trek back to Eldon. When I sat down to eat, it hit me it was the first time I'd sat down since 9 that morning. I couldn't recall a time when sitting down felt so refreshing.