2:30 a.m. I once saw a program on one of the serious TV news shows -- 20/20 or 60 Minutes or Dateline -- about what can happen if you have a washing machine on the second floor of your house. It was a really scary show. I never forgot it.

So, when I sat down this morning at my desk, all aglow from all the lovely party entries and all self-satisfied with how nice my house looked because I had over-cleaned, I was also overly smug because I had already thrown in a load of laundry before even beginning my day's entry. How's that for efficient?

So, I'm poking around, checking in on some of my favorite sites, and here I find that I'm mentioned in Magnus Itland's Chaos Node (thanks, Magnus) and it's all about neatness and I'm just starting to read it and to marvel at the photo he'd posted of his own place, when lo and behold ... what do my ears perceive ... hey! That sounded like a drip. Drip? Dripdropdripdroooooooppppp .........

And you can just imagine. The hoses had blown and it all happened so fast. One second there's the bemused look you get on your face when you think you hear something out of the ordinary (drip!) and then it begins to dawn on you and you get up and run upstairs to check on the laundry and there was all this steam coming out where the washing machine is and then, by the time I got back downstairs it had become a cascade, a waterfall, a Niagara Falls.

Luckily it was in the half of the office away from the computers. Luckily that big closet you see in the picture, the one with the perfectly stacked manuscripts and various treasured paper supplies -- that closet had a lid, a roof, a watertight seal, thank all my lucky ducks.

So, it could have been much worse. I got to reuse those weird plastic caldrons that I bought for the party. Who could have predicted that? One of the things that endeared Beth to me five seconds after I met her was when I told her how much they'd cost ($2.49) she immediately said, with a perfectly straight face, "And you only bought two?"

Who can predict anything? Who can really look at a Dayplanner with a perfectly straight face? Every time you think you've got a quiet moment, the other shoe drops.

But I like that about life. I really do. It's another reminder that we're playing checkers with a really Powerful Being, and when it's Her turn, you're often surprised.

And, I guess there's no use getting very upset when your well-laid plans don't hatch or your ceiling springs a leak right over your perfectly packed earthquake/brush fire emergency cardboard box of family photos.

Sigh. We all know who gets the last move in this game. And, of course, the last laugh.