cry me a river

This past weekend we noticed a leak in our toilet (located on the second floor). Yet, since me and my roomies are a bunch of lacadaisical 20-something guys, we thought nothing of it, put a rag on the floor and kept on living ("You just gotta keep on livin', man. L-I-V-I-N"). So last night I got back from a typical 12-hour day, and I found both of my roommates upstairs, trying to figure out how to cut off the water. Apparently the leak had gotten pretty bad, with a bucket full of water underneath the toilet, and we had to actually do something about it. After a few minutes of searching we concluded that the culprit was a broken joint on the toilet's main pipe. Took us geniuses a while to figure out where the faucet to cut off the water to that was, but we did, and so had no more water on the second floor (where the bathroom and toilets are), with water still on on the first floor.
Anyway this morning I get up, and in my infinite 7am-wisdom, decide I'm going to turn on the water "just for a couple of minutes", so I can take a shower and shave. Needless to say as soon as I turned the water back on I heard a weird noise, turned it off immediately, and saw that the toilet floor was drenched. I'll tell ya, ain't a better sight in the morning than a -thankfully clean- water-drenched toilet floor. It's either that or finding out that the girl you brought back home from that wild party the night before is actually Chewbacca's sister. Thus twas back to the old old school this morning at la casa, like 1912-style, having to use the kitchen sink, where I somehow managed to "clean" myself and shave (having the reflection of the faucet as only mirror).
The moral of the story ? There's fun, there's buckets of fun, and then there's dealing with water leaks in the morning before work.