Hell or High Water?

Hi Bloggers. This is Mrs. Doubtfire, yes, the one and only. After you read the below, you will understand why you are graced with me posting the below entry...I quit my job yesterday, so already, people are asking me to do things like this! hahah, kidding, kidding...And in case your curious, my boobs are fine...in fact, they are damn fine if I must say. Have a great day and enjoy the below entry from your host, DC Super Powers! (who is quite super in real life too)

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As I sit here in the floor of my mother-in-law's basement with a keyboard in my lap, I am grateful for a few things.

1. She is on a two week long cruise
2. I do not own a house
3. I do not have a basement with water gushing in
4. Most importantly, I am thankful I do not have dial-up.

Dial-up internet, people. Dial. Up. How am I to work in these conditions??
Yesterday, due to the torrential downpour, The Mister & I decided to come check on MIL's house. Thank goodness we did. Her basement was filling with water.
Manning ourselves with buckets and a wet/dry vac, we went to town. As soon -I swear to fucking Titan- as soon as we finished the sky let loose again and refilled the freaking crawl space.
"Whew! Thank goodness that's done... oh. my. god. NOOOO! It's coming in faster."
Necessity birthed invention, and after a little pow-wow and ingneius MacGyver styling with an old pond pump and we managed to rig a system to pump the water into the drain.
BUT at 11pm, we realized it had to be turned on every hour. Last night we stayed here at MIL's house with her pretty pink rooms and fucking bows and doilies everywhere. Gag. Wretch. Not to mention we had the nieghbors calling for two hours because this is Potomac and apparently that means nosey fucking people watching out for your house. God forbid they use their extra keys to check on your basement.
I can deal with trudging into the basement to pump water every hour.
But dial-up? DIAL. UP. I HAVE BEEN REDUCED TO DIAL-UP.
The Mister is off to work and here I am to pump, pump, pump water out of the basement.
I really wanted to tell you about my wonderful wedding weekend, but that will have to wait; especially since my mother and sister are coming to visit tomorrow. Who cares if my own place needs tending to before they arrive? Moms is going to find dust and GAH! a water ring in my bathtub. She's cool, and maybe I can get the young, Sis to help clean a little while she stays for two weeks. That's what kids are for, right?
DIAL-UP. FUCKING. DIAL. UP.