Last night I wanted a good nights sleep so I took the full dose of Xannax. I was sleeping so good. Then at 3am my husband wakes me up to tell me the power is out.
I should take this time to tell you that from 9pm to 1am I am fine and functional. If you wake me up after 1am my God have mercy on your soul. If you are my child I will still get mad at you. I don't care who it is I will be angry. I will be mean, stompy and short fused. It's not pretty.
So when he tells me that the fucking power is out I wanted to smash his face in. Did he have to tell me this? Could I not have lived without knowing the power was out? I was livid.
But then I heard the beep.
Or was it a chirp.
I don't know what it was but it was really, really, really, really, damn annoying. I call the power company who tells me there is no outage in the area. My husband decides to go outside and check the breakers. I listen to the beeping for about 45 seconds before coming homicidal. So I go downstairs and discover the beeping coming from the alarm panel. I get to the panel and the beep comes again, FROM UPSTAIRS. So I run upstairs and I hear the fire alarm beep. But then I hear it again and it's downstairs. I run downstairs and freeze in the middle of the area and hear the beep again. It's for sure the alarm panel. So I run back over and the upstairs beeps. I run back upstairs and I have no fucking idea what is beeping now. I go to all of the fire alarms upstairs and listen for beeping. Then Brandon starts moving so I shut the kids doors and hear the beep again and its for sure down stairs. Down I go.
It wasn't down stairs.
So I run upstairs again.
It wasn't upstairs.
Finally I give up and sit on the couch seething mad. It's 3 in the morning, shit is beeping, my husbands outside, oh and did I mention he left me with a gun. So the whole time I'm running up and down the stairs I'm trying not to shoot my foot off. Finally he comes back in and tells me that none of the breakers are tripped. I call the power company back and they ask me if I'm near "Jetson."
What the fuck is a Jetson????
I tell them I live on a private road and I don't know what a damn Jetson is and can they just figure it out. The guy curtly tells me they will head out.
I call the alarm company.
It was the wrong number.
I call the right number.
Thank God no one was breaking into my house right now or I would die pushing fucking buttons.
Finally I get a human who tells me that it is the alarm panel and just to shut off my alarm.
So I shut it off.
So then he says, "it must be your fire alarm, you need to get your fire alarm off the ceiling and change the battery." I ask if that is going to set the alarm off? He tells me it will but that maybe I could find a paper clip and push a little reset button.
It's 3am and you want me to find a paper clip. A fucking paper clip.
Seconds before I bite the guys head of my husband says, "wait!" He pulls out the little table below the alarm panel and grabs our carbon monoxide detector.
My husband had found the beep. I was thrilled. But now what. It needed batteries. So he's sitting there on the floor calmly trying to take the battery cover off and I'm getting pissed. This thing is still beeping and he's handling it like a fucking newborn. I wanted to smash it into the ground. He finally gets it off and takes out the battery.
It keeps beeping.
I swear I saw red at that moment.
He leaves me alone with the gun and the beeping machine to find a battery. I looked from one hand to the other, back and forth, and then he came in with a battery.
I might have pouted a little.
He puts the battery in and BEEP.
I think my head started spinning.
But then, it stopped. The beeping stopped. He plugged it back into the wall, looked over and told me to go back to bed.
Fool didn't have to tell me twice. I stomped up the stairs, put away his gun, crammed my ear plugs in and went back to bed.
But this morning you can bet your ass I gave that carbon monoxide detector the stink eye.
posted on Sep. 6, 2012
Sep. 07 2012
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