Remember the girl in the first episode of Lost who just stands there screaming while people are gushing blood and trying to help others all arond her?
That was me when we came home last night.
We got to the back door and heard the calming sound of rushing water.
We burst in with a flood of profanities. Kyle ran to the water and turned it off and as soon as he came back into the room (after assuring his computers were safe and dry) he wrapped his arms around my sobbing body and told me it'd be okay.
We've had a ton of help cleaning out the ceiling that had fallen into our kitchen and soaking up the resulting flood.
I think there's still a long way to go.
But at least I'm not sobbing.