It’s been a long day/week/month/year (pick one). I unintentionally let work consume me. But this isn’t about my job. Or my depression. Or my fresh tattoo repeatedly getting stuck to my underwear all day long (for real, I would like to know the trick to making that not happen, although I’m sure it’s Don’t Tattoo Your Bajingo). This is about my flipping smoke alarms that are wired together, like a giant torture device.
Do you want tinnitus, because I’m pretty sure this is how you get tinnitus.
Let’s flash back to an hour ago. I had just peeled my underwear off of my tattoo, and was debating what I could possibly wear instead of underwear (hey Siri, what’s a good alternative to clothes), when I heard my children fighting.
Someone threw a pillow, the other threw a punch. Both were shrieking that the other was responsible. “Cut it out you two,” because I’m still trying to figure out how to approach the whole tattoo-sticking-to-my-underwear situation.
Then a door slammed.
And then, one of my nightmares came true……again.
For the fourth time in the 6 years we’ve lived here, the smoke detectors went off. This isn’t one little beeping alarm. Oh no, this is six alarms shrieking in unison throughout the house, and thus begins the fun game: guess which smoke detector has a dying battery. Instant. Anxiety.
Maybe I don’t change the batteries often enough, but twice they’ve had to replace the main control/alarm/shrieky wall decoration. One year I even said, “when I keep the carbon monoxide detector (aka the piece that holds the entire shriek system together) plugged into the system, every single alarm goes off and I can’t make them stop!” He shrugged and said, “Thur ain’t no reason for a carbon monoxide detector in these houses anyway, so just go ahead ‘n’ leave it unplugged.” Sounds like a plan! Until the follow year during our annual inspection, the next guy said, “let me replace that for you.” No! Please don’t!
I don’t even know why they’re all interconnected, other than to destroy my eardrums as I run screaming through the house, disconnecting every single flipping smoke detector in the house. Somebody make it stop!!!
My ears are still ringing.
This is probably what Justin hears every day of his life.
I now have 5 smoke detectors and a carbon monoxide detector, sitting battery-free on my counter. Until I feel like playing this game again.
I keep asking, “is there still an alarm going off?!”
Now. About this tattoo-sticking-to-my-underwear issue……
