Coming off a grueling work week, which included back-to-back pick-up basketball games and three consecutive heavy drinking sessions, I was drained physically and mentally. I literally ached for some rest. I was excited for last Saturday (September 26) since I will finally be able to recharge and get some Me Time. All I wanted to do was to wake up at any time I want (i.e. any time later than my daily 8:00 a.m. wake-up call) and enjoy a laidback day. The first objective, I was able to do. The second objective?  That’s an entirely different story. To say that I had a busy Saturday would be a monstrous understatement. It would just be like saying Manny Pacquiao is a good boxer. Or that the analogy I just used was terrible.

I woke up at around lunchtime. I slept soundly thanks to the lulling rain and the fact that I had too much to drink. It was still raining hard when I got up. I immediately looked outside the window of my room. My prediction was confirmed: our street was already flooded. It didn’t come as a surprise to me though since this is a normal occurrence in our area whenever it rains continuously. Hence, my quick prediction. So, I carried on with my usual weekend routine. I ate lunch, read the newspaper, and browsed channels on the T.V. The flood continued to rise. But being the self-confident bastard that I am, I just easily dismissed it, thinking it would eventually subside, like it always does. Boy, was I completely wrong. I had a giant red X mark plastered on my bastardly face.

After about an hour, the water entered our kitchen. We live in an elevated house and it was the first time flood managed to storm inside. Minutes later, the uninvited guest entered our living room. At that point, I started to feel a little nervous. More ticks later, the water was already in the master’s bedroom. I could hear the Black Eyed Peas song and proverbial Facebook status message mocking me: “I’ve got a feeling, that tonight’s gonna be a long night, that tonight’s gonna be a long long night.”