Then, I had a meeting. Not just any meeting, but a 2 hour long meeting, all in French, that went over lunch. Meetings can be bad. Meetings that you can't understand and that stretch over lunch are worse.
French class was also rough - after a 3 week absence (a two week "vacation" from class, followed by my own trip) left me struggling on pronunciation.
Finally, though, I got home, put on some laundry, and took a bath, trying to relax. As I got ready for bed, my downstairs neighbor knocked on my door.
She said, "Is anything wrong with your apartment?"
"No, why?"
"Well, my apartment is flooding."
I followed her downstairs, where I saw waterfalls of water cascading down her walls. I went back upstairs and found the culprit. Here in France, my washing machine has a little tube that lets the machine drain into the sink. Well, as the washing machine rumbled away, that little tube decided to launch itself out of the sink and onto the floor, dumping at least 3 or 4 washing machine loads worth of water on the floor (minus, of course, what was now in my neighbor's apartment). So I spent the rest of my "relaxing" day mopping up the inch of water in my kitchen.
As Hamlet says, sometimes sorrows come not in single spies, but in battalions.

















































