I am the worst granddaughter in the world. Maybe. Actually, you tell me.
The last few days my aunt and uncle have been visiting. One of the responsibilities that comes with living at home is giving up your room when people come to visit.
I used to sleep and still technically have a room downstairs in the basement, where grandma currently resides. But since she kind of wanders and gets up a lot at night, and often talks to things that aren't there, I am temporarily displaced upstairs. Which is fine for me. The room upstairs is where aunt and uncle slept when they were visiting.
Which meant I was back in my old domain, sharing walls with grandma. I know, the typical life of a 26 year old. We are so dramatic.
I didn't realize how often or how early grandma gets up during the night until the last couple nights. The first night I slept downstairs, I woke up to grandma yelling at 6:30am (ish): "Help! Help! I'm starving! I haven't eaten in one and a half days! Help!" (we had dinner the night before. don't worry)
She yells help a lot. Most of the time it means she needs attention. Or the bathroom.
So when I heard her yelling help at 6:30am, I just kind of ignored it and went back to sleep. Some normal people get up that early on a daily basis, but when you're unemployed that hour is unacceptable. Because if you get up early you have to find things to do all day long. The longer you sleep in, the less time you have to kill before you get to sleep again.
The next morning grandma started yelling help at 5:30am, way too early for anyone (except my old roommate who used to go to the gym everyday that early. she made me feel sad about myself). Her helps again went unnoticed by me, as I faded in and out of dreamland for the next couple hours, waking up occasionally to the sounds of her pleas. I must say she was more consistent than normal, but I still kept sleeping. It's the only thing I'm good at these days.
Around 9 am I finally decide to roll out of bed. I open my door to grandmas place and I see that her cries, this time, were warranted.
Her bed in the basement sits right below one of our windows. They are well windows, and that night had seen substantial rain. Turns out that the well had gathered a good amount of rain throughout the night, and the window wasn't properly sealed, thereby creating a leak into grandmas room. All night long. So when I walked out of my bedroom, I walked into soaking carpet. Yes, the room had flooded all the way to my door.
I guess when my aunt went down to get her, she heard grandma yell "Help! Call the homeowner!"
This time, grandma was right.
And I slept right through it.