No sink.

Hello, my pretties. How's it going? Well? Good to hear. Me? I don't have a sink anymore. Um, remember that really great story I wrote a while back? Well, it sort of happened again, only slower. More of a steady fill to overflowingness that I had to empty at one AM, less of a sudden vomit. Yes, that's right, it woke me at one AM. Oh, and there's been standing water in there for a few days now. There's no standing water now, but that has more to do with the fact that my sink isn't actually connected to the wall in any real way any more. Well, not entirely true; if I turn the taps, water comes out, but it goes straight down into the trash can under the basin. No pipe! Well, pipe on the floor. Sorry, I lied. My sorrow is greater than logic would dictate is possible. Oh, the weeping. Now, ironically, I really need to have the pipe that lets the water out. You know, what with the weeping I'm doing. I'm, like, ankle-deep is sadness here. The irony, oh, the irony.