Vacation was wonderful--but I had a hard dose of reality in the wee hours of this morning.
Picture this--wake up at 2 a.m. Freaking downstairs smoke detector battery has died. Shut door to dull incessant and high-pitched beeping. Turn on TV. Try to convince the dog his ears won't bleed and no one is downstairs. Try to dive back into sleep. Enter recurring nightmare. All of them have slight variations but the theme is always the same. Snakes. Some are terrifying, some are just annoying.
I am in a house and have to go in the room I am supposed to sleep in--where there are two really big snakes. I know they are in there. I am begging someone, anyone to help me. Someone I know and trust. But no one will help me. I end up in the room anyway frantically standing on a chair, tearfully pleading (read: freaking out) with someone to just help me because I am so afraid...the snakes are on the floor. And no one comes. No one will help me.
I have to admit this one had a hard grip on my heart at 5 a.m. But I have to get up and deal with dog walking. Which means we have to go down to where the smoke detector won't stop beeping. And that means the dog is freaking out now, too. Now I am running late for work. And I don't know what to do about this problem. Clearly I can't leave the dog here all day with the beeping. He is scared out of his mind already.
I know most of us have seen that "Modern Family" episode that was super cute and funny where Phil couldn't locate the beeping smoke detector, but this morning was far from cute and funny.
Attempt 1: Drag kitchen chair into foyer. Successfully twist smoke detector and let it dangle from the ceiling. WTH is the battery compartment? Why can't I get it open. Can't really reach it all that well.
Attempt 2: Grab my 4 inch wedges. Stand on living room chair in these shoes but still can't see shit or find the battery compartment.
Attempt 3: Call Dad and see if he will come over. It's not like I even have a new battery to put in the smoke detector if I take the old one out. He seems generally unenthusiastic. I complain about how the only ladder I have is gigantic. I am concerned about having to drag it in the house alone. Dad says I am strong enough to do this. Now I am really late for work.
Attempt 4: Now I am in tears. I back the car out of the garage. I shut the garage so I can leave the door open to lug in 12 foot ladder. The dog decides the best place to hang out is the garage as the downstairs is a war zone. He refuses to come back inside and looks at me like I am trying to kill him. But now, I have the 12 foot ladder. I climb the ladder. I have a screwdriver in hand to pry open whatever is up there so that I can remove the battery.
6:50 a.m. (I am supposed to be at work at 7) -- mission accomplished. The dog is back in the house. More tears are shed on the way to work as I run out of the door. It's almost like I was living my dream--thank god no snakes were there.
Me (minus Zack Morris):
I know I shouldn't sweat the small stuff. I know that I shouldn't be fearful of being alone forever since I already do everything for myself anyway. But still...
Love you. Mean it.
~the single gal~