No drizzle - Just Deluge

Fuck the saying that it "pours." This is some real inundation, although PLEASE don't get any ideas, heavens! On June 2, there was a bitch of a storm that came through. It was windy as hell and the hail was about the size of a quarter. And the relentless pounding my house took was incredible. The wind and hail took took tree limbs and leaves right off the trees and scattered vegetation all over the damn place - I hadn't seen anything like it since I flew into Tampa hours after Hurricane Jeane. Except, there aren't any palm fronds in Indianapolis.

Anyway - it sounded like the ice was going to come right through my skylights. It was deafeningly loud in my house as the weather gods laughed and laughed at me pacing around this house, scared like I was 5 and just KNEW that that coat rack with the top hat over there in the dark was a bad, bad man who was going to kill me.

An inspector came out and said I had hail damage to my roof. I thought it fortuitous since the last time this room was re-done was before I owned the house and before the code was updated to say two layers of roof maximum. There're three layers up there. So, I called it in.

Nine Thousand Six Hundred mother fucking Dollars is what the adjuster told me.

What?!?

It just then dawned on me, as the insurance adjuster was speaking to me, that my insurance premiums were going to soar. Of course, right?

Thing is, I spent the last three weeks buying flooring and having it installed in my house to replace 8 year old carpet that withstood the test of two toddlers, and bought new furniture for the living room that had done the same. So, here I am with about $3,000 in store credit cards (because it was no interest, no payment until January if I did it that way) and WHAM!

The roof is on fire (figuratively)

... and I reported it. To the insurance company.

Yay! New roof, at least. And floors!

(for someone else to enjoy when they repo this bitch)