Funny story: as I was slipping on my coat to head out to work this morning, another gray and rainy Monday here in Philadelphia, I noticed that along the right side, the wool was quite damp. My first (utterly horrified) thought was that one of my cats, most likely the 10-month old, has started spraying, but when I hung the coat back on its hook beside the door, I realized that it hangs far too high off the floor for either cat to possibly spray it.
I assumed it must still have been wet from the last time I wore it, a somewhat dubious theory considering our recent summery weather. Then I put on the jacket that hangs next to the coat, only to find that, too, very damp.
At that point I looked up. A dark brown spot had spread on the ceiling, just above the coat hook, the spackle cracked and pursed like a pair of lips waiting for a kiss. A leak.
Fortunately, I rent. Unfortunately, this is the second leak in this apartment. I’ve known about a minor leak in the bathroom for a couple of weeks, but that one leaks into the wall and so no water enters the actual apartment. Instead the paint along the seam between wall and ceiling bulges, and brown drip-lines are left on the wall where the rainwater trickles.
I’ve been meaning to let the landlord know about that leak for a while, and have put it off. Now that I’ve found a leak that’s soaking my outerwear, it may be a bit more urgent.