Damnit

I keep cleaning right when I get tired. The dishes did not need to be done at 2 in the morning. Nor did the kitty litter just need to be cleaned. Maybe someday I'll get to bed...

Fuck. Me.

 So I live in a city where it rains all the time, right? I let the dog out this morning, and while I was watching him point at the neighbor's cat, I noticed that one of my chairs had...lost a leg. And the ground beneath it looked like it had opened up. I admit that I panicked a little, because I thought a giant sinkhole had opened up and was going to swallow my house (I have an overactive imagination, okay?) so I kind of ran outside and...yeah. A giant sinkhole had opened up and just might swallow my house. Okay, no, I'm speaking in hyperbole. The grate/cover/mat/thing above my sump pit (where you put the sump pump, for those not ~in the know~) decided it wanted to fall into the sump pit. Now there is a square hole in my back yard that opens up into an unknowably deep hole. (I'm sure it's knowable, I just don't feel like putting my hand in there quite yet. There could be monsters.)

Here, have a picture:


Now I have the area covered with a board (the same board I used to cover up the window that blew out in my garage last summer...) so that the neighbor's cat/my dog don't fall into the unknowably deep hole. My stepdad said he'd try and come fix it while he's home on leave, so at least I probably won't have to pay a shitton of money to do whatever with it, but still. 

The lesson, here, children? Do not buy an old house. Just don't.