Headings are dumb.

I woke up on sunday morning at around 7:00 or 7:30 to go pee. Except for being a bit on the freezing side everything in the NEW apartment seemed fine. After being relieved of my burden, I quickly fell back asleep. I awoke again at 11:00. My room shares a wall with the bathroom and I heard water running so I just assumed that Sylvia or Pat was in the shower. I lay around, curled in my electric blanket (thanks Mom & Dad...aka Santa). About a half an hour goes by and still, the water is running. Now this is not an excessively long shower, but I was getting impatient. I thought I would cook an egg to keep myself occupied, however, once in the kitchen I saw where the water was really coming form.
MY WATER HEATER EXPLODED!!!!!!!!!!
There. Is. A. Fucking. River. In. My. Laundry. Room.
The first thing I thought, or maybe I even said out loud, was "OSHIT". One word, you know? I tossed on a pair of flip flops, yes, flip flops, and waded on in. The water heater spouting water from the vent in the top, where the heat is usually pumped in. All the twisting and tugging on pipes and knobs did nothing. My next thought was that my apt. was going to fall in half. This did not happen. It was a rather anti-climactic ending to this whole mess. A guy came out, turned a knob, water shut off, he said "you need a new water heater.", I said, ok, he said "we'll be back tomorrow morning." I, again said "ok", then I left to go to work, yes, I sometimes must work on Sunday's, unshowered, unshaven, and unclean. The end.