I did say when it rains, it pours, didn’t I?

Idiot. Someone took me literally.

I thought I heard something in my kitchen when I came home, but I couldn’t be sure because my hearing is poor and because there are all kinds of creaks from the door and things like that.

At about 9:45 p.m., I got off the phone with a friend and passed the kitchen — and noticed yellow water all over the kitchen floor by the stove.

Uh-oh.

I opened the bedroom closet, which is where the water came down the last time there was a leak and which is where I should have looked at 7 p.m., when I had a suspicion. I can’t believe I didn’t remember that from before.

My mind has been on other things this week.

The entire wall is wet. Soaked.

I called the building engineer, who even now is pounding away upstairs, then took everything off the floor of the closet. And by everything I mean a ton of stuff.

I am a pack rat, alas.

When he fixes the leak, I’m hoping he can bring a wet-vac and clean up the carpet in the closet and bedroom, as well as the one in the main hallway, because they are all soaked.

I imagine the wall will have to be looked at as well.

All because my mind was on other things and I didn’t remember to look in the closet.

I feel down about this (not to mention tired, as my intention was to get to sleep early tonight), but as I told Sharon downstairs — I am not in Gloucester.

In other words, it could be much worse.

But still, when it rains, it pours.

I will be happy, I think, when this week is over.