Posted by: kristabella | December 1, 2007

And I Hadn’t Even Been Drinking

So apparently if you tell me I don’t have to actually post on the weekends, that is when I have inspiration come over me and have to post. Crazy how that works.

Scene: Casa KJ, around 2 AM Saturday morning. We see Kristabella sleeping in her bed, worn out from a stressful week, surrounded by her cats.

Kristin gets up to take a potty break because she had an entire pitcher of cherry Kool-Aid after she got home from work Friday night. Because nothing takes the edge off like Cherry Sugar Free Kool-Aid. Especially after being dehydrated from the lunch-hour beers.

As she lays her head back down on her pillow, with visions of sugar plums Sun Devil victories vats of red wine dancing in her head as she avoids the drool spot on her pillow, she thinks she hears a noise. It is the weekend and the neighbors below tend to stay up all hours. Because they smoke a lot of pot and have no real jobs.

Beeeeeeeeeeep.Reallyshrillbeepthatnohumanbeingcansleepthrough.

Kristin hears this beep. She knows this beep. It is the beep of a smoke detector with dying batteries. It is not a pleasant sound.

Beeeeeeeeeeep.Reallyshrillbeepthatnohumanbeingcansleepthrough.

Kristin thinks to herself “I really need to take that battery out. I’m not going to be able to sleep until I do. Unless I turn the fan on high. Maybe that will drown out the sound.”

She turns the fan on high. It rattles like the thing is going to go up into smoke from the stress and overworking of the motor. And she can’t have a fire when the smoke detector isn’t even working.

Throwing off her comforter, she sighs “fine! I’ll take the battery out.”

She put on her glasses stomps out of the bedroom. Because she lives on the top floor and this is her childish way of sending a message to the pot heads below. She heads into the dining area with the kitchen table that is used as nothing more than a place to put shit, but has nice placemats. She grabs the kitchen chair to use as a step stool. Because climbing on a chair is always a good thing to do when you’re half asleep. Because nothing is more fun than burning down to a charred pile of ashes in your apartment when the fire starts that you don’t know about because you fell off the chair and broke your neck when you took out the old battery in your smoke detector and couldn’t make it down the three flights of stairs because of the PAIN and your neighbors are too stoned to come and offer help. Because they probably started the fire.

Thankfully, she escapes injury free. She takes the detector off the wall and brings it down and takes out the battery. She puts it down on the coffee table and turns off the light and heads back to bed.

Beeeeeeeeeeep.Reallyshrillbeepthatnohumanbeingcansleepthrough.

“What the fuck?” she says. “How the fuck can it still be beeping when there is NO BATTERY?” She ponders this question as she stands in her living room, smoke alarm in one hand, 9-volt battery in another.

She waits.

Beeeeeeeeeeep.Reallyshrillbeepthatnohumanbeingcansleepthrough.

Kitty Kitty jumps three feet in the air. She can’t understand, either, why, whyyyyy, Kristin can’t stop the annoying beeping, for the love of God.

So Kristin holds down the test button on the smoke detector. “Maybe that will get all the beeps out of it,” she thinks. “Expel all that electricity that is left in there.” Apparently, this this is logical thinking at 2 o’clock in the morning.

Beeeeeeeeeeep.Reallyshrillbeepthatnohumanbeingcansleepthrough.

“Seriously?” she yells. And then she turns. The beeping isn’t coming through this cheap plastic thing she’s holding in her hand. It’s coming from across the room. She wonders what could be making this infernal racket. And she wonders when she turned age 80.

She looks at the litter box. “That can’t be making noise. Well, at least a beeping sound,” she ponders out loud to no one in general. And then she sees it. The outlet next to the litter box. Above the cats’ food. Plugged in, there is the carbon monoxide detector. The culprit has been found!

So she unplugs it from the wall, celebrating her ginormous victory on the inside, and heads back to bed. Because dying in fire is scary. But carbon monoxide poisoning? That’s just like falling asleep. So she lies down under her warm, down comforter and proceeds to fall back asleep.

Until she darts awake thinking “I’m really sleepy (even though it is the middle of the night) and I do feel a little sick to my stomach (even though all she ate for dinner was cheese). Aren’t these symptoms of CO2 poisoning?” And she can’t fall asleep thinking that she may never wake up. There are so many things she wants to accomplish before she dies. Like drinking that expensive bottle of wine she’s saving for some momentous occasion that will never come.

So in all her infinite wisdom, you know the wisdom that made her think the the smoke alarm was working without a battery, she thinks that she should open a window and get some fresh air in the house.

And she falls back asleep and thinks to herself as she yawns and her eyelids become heavy “I have to remember to blog about this.”

/Fin.

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Responses

  1. Can CO2 detectors pick up kitty litter fumes? 🙂 Glad you lived to tell the tale. Also, we might have to stage a Kool-Aid intervention.

    Jules
    House of Jules

  2. Hey! Are you OK in there? Text me or something so I know you didn’t OD on carbon monoxide…

    Get up. There’s a game to watch at 7 p.m. CT!

  3. I didn’t want to laugh but I did.

    Put the carbon monoxide detector out on your back porch to air it out. That’s what the FIREMEN told Gram & Papa when the same thing happened….only they called 911 convinced there was a fire somewhere or carbon monoxide leaking. Everything checked out & the firemen told them that the carbon monoxide detectors get “dirty” (from ???????) and need to be aired out.

    Bet you didn’t think I knew something about everything, did you?

  4. Can CO2 detectors pick up kitty litter fumes? 🙂 Glad you lived to tell the tale.

    Also, we might have to stage a Kool-Aid intervention.

    Jules
    House of Jules

  5. Can CO2 detectors pick up kitty litter fumes? 🙂 Glad you lived to tell the tale. Also, we might have to stage a Kool-Aid intervention.

    Jules

  6. he he he. I remember when we were in an apartment and the guy upstairs had one of those damn things.

    We all ended up in the courtyard out-damn-side, and he came strolling in from the bar.

    hated him.

  7. You learn something new every day/night!

  8. Ha! That is so hilarious…and probably something that I would do. Except I might have stomped on it or something because I’m a cranky girl when I’m tired 🙂 Oh, and I love koolaid too!

  9. That’a how bloggers roll. They may be near death or mid-crisis or IN A REAL LIFE SITUATION THAT REQUIRES SOME ADULT ATTENTION, but so help the lovely blogger, since all they are thinking about is how to turn this into a punchline.

    Or is that just me?


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