I Could Make a Pun About Being a Drip, but I Won't

I had dissection at 8am this morning.  That was fun.  We were supposed to dissect the bladder and the rectum.  Some groups ran into some sort of trouble on the rectum (I have no idea what), so we were told not to bother with it.  So all we did was the bladder.  That consisted of going, "There are the ureters that we found several dissections ago.  There's the top of the bladder.  Oh, and there's the rest of it.  Let's open it and see the openings for the ureters and urethra.  There they are.  Um...  Did anyone watch Project Runway last night?"  Actually, my group is three guys plus me, so I didn't say the last part out loud (though I seriously considered it).  We spent some more time poking around the pelvis and looking at other bodies, but we still were out of there by 9:30 (and that was with a lot of procrastination).  So I got up at 7am on a Friday for nothing.

I got back to my apartment intending to take a shower and get rid of the formaldehyde smell that lingers after dissection.  Instead, I discovered a leak in my bathroom ceiling.  One drip was right over the tub, and another few drips were over the floor in front of the tub.  I called maintenance.  By the time the guy got here, the dripping had stopped, but I showed him where I had seen the dripping and where the floor was wet.  He went upstairs to turn on the water above me.  It didn't drip.  It's been several hours, and it hasn't dripped.  And of course, it's Friday, so if it starts again, I'll probably have to wait until Monday to get it fixed.  I'm sure this will be fun.