My Apartment Flooded

My apartment flooded last week and it felt a bit like the image below. Except it was more like a giant puddle that came from under my bed than a thigh high river, and also more of my clothes are from Forever 21 than Louis Vuitton so I didn’t freak out about that. (I don’t own any Louis Vuitton.) I did however, effort and dive to save my rug but I don’t think it’s gonna make it. 

Mood.

Mood.

In case you’re wondering, the immediate plan of action for a flooded apartment is to remove the floor. (Apparently.) Here’s an actual photo of me in my newly basement-chic vibed spot with the wood floor taken out.  

Hot. (But actually really cold.)

Hot. (But actually really cold.)

Sure this is more of a mirror selfie because I felt cute than a great photo of the floor, but you get the idea. 

The floor has been drying out for a few days which is not the most cozy of environments but, you know, it could be worse. The next step is to leave for a couple days while it gets replaced. 

I’m adding this avoidable flooding incident to the ever growing list of compelling proof that Los Angeles is not prepared for the foreign concept of rain. I experienced another form of this that very morning that I came home to my flooded apartment. It took me a strong 45 minutes to drive the 2.7 miles home from a guy’s house. Because of the rain. And, I used Waze.