One more in the series of fucked up events that I call "my life"

Imagine, if you will, a balmy afternoon in the sub-tropical paradise that is central Florida. You've just settled down for a nice nap as you hear the soothing sound of a summer storm outside your window. You snuggle up and listen to the gentle patter of rain falling on a canopy of palm trees. You're so in tune with the rhythm, you can almost feel the water droplets.

Then, you do feel the water droplets.

Fucking water droplets?!?!?!

This is how my Monday started. I woke up and stumbled around a bit, eyeing my surroundings suspiciously. At a glance, I appeared to be inside my apartment. And yet, from my previous experiences with apartments, I recalled that it generally does not rain inside such dwellings.

Something was clearly amiss.

Mr. Wankershanks was a bit quicker on the draw:

"Goddamned fucking bullshit oprah winfrey turdknocker!" was his conclusion. Or some curse-filled variation on that theme.

I was finally able to pry my eyes open... and immediately regretted doing so. Water was streaming down from the ceiling in our bedroom and the surrounding hallway. The bathroom had seen the worst carnage with about an inch of water covering the floor.
Springing into action, I ran down to the office wearing sopping wet clothes and a crazed look of desperation.

It turns out that my indoor everglades was caused by some incompetent roofers. How incompetent, you ask? SO incompetent that they went to lunch halfway through the process of removing and replacing our roof. Apparently, they had completed the removing portion and decided to celebrate a job halfway well-done. And they were SO incompetent that they decided not to cover the roof with tarps, as is the traditional way of the natives here in a state where it rains every two fucking minutes. But they weren't completely incompetent.

They did manage to cover their roofing supplies, which sat in the parking lot near the worksite. Way to look sharp, fuckers.

A few well-placed buckets later, we decided to escape the chinese water torture of our apartment and get some pizza.

Question: What could possibly happen to a leaky apartment in a few, measly hours?

Answer: Everything, dumbass.

When we returned home, we were surprised to find that our ceiling was now our floor. That's generally a bad sign.

And so, for the past 3 days, we have spent our hours wading through shit water, digging through drywall and trying to salvage anything we can for the apartment that we were hurriedly relocated to. I've been assured that the roofer's insurance will pay for everything. Much to my dismay, however, "the castration of a bunch of fuckup roofers" is not included in "everything."

Thus begins my out-of-pocket expenses.