Sound Postcard : 27 : Dripping Ceiling

This morning I woke up to a peculiar sound… Its rhythm was perfect, like a finely tuned drum machine in Richie Hawtin’s hands… Alas, the player was the ceiling; its instrument my bedroom floor. I put the bucket underneath the dripping water and captured the onset of misery…

It seems that the weight of all of the snow and ice that has covered my house during this winter storm on the East Coast of the United States, has caved in my roof, and now the water was leaking into my home. Thank heavens I’m a renter! Although it’s someone else’s [more expensive] problem, it’s ultimately mine to bear through the days to come. At least I got this recording out of it… Sigh…