The Day the Sky Fell

A couple of weeks ago, I felt a little like Chicken Little, except I was right, dammit! My story begins a little before that. It seems we've started to get a little bit of water damage in our ceiling, and in our bathroom, it got quite bad, as can be seen in the following picture:



This crack was at least a meter across and coming down an inch from the ceiling. So, on this fateful Friday night two weeks or so ago, I was sitting in the living room, watching TV and knitting, the boyfriend out at a concert with some of his friends, when I hear a big crash from the direction of the bathroom. It was quite a windy night, so I thought maybe the wind had blown something off the windowsill, so I check the bedroom and the computer room and then the bathroom last, since we didn't have anything on the bathroom windowsill except shampoo bottles, and they don't exactly shatter when they fall. So, I looked in the bathroom and encountered this:



These huge flakes of paint were all over the floor. And I can only imagine that that ceiling must have been painted over dozens and dozens of times because they were several millimeters thick.



Early the next morning, I heard another crash, and more of the ceiling had fallen off with a large piece hanging over the door that subsequently fell on my head when I tried closing said door. Ceiling paint is sharp. Anyway, it's all cleaned up now, and looks like it won't fall down anymore (though there's not much paint left on our ceiling to fall down). We just have to get some sort of work order filled out so we can get the damn thing fixed.