This morning I was startled awake by the heinous loud beeping of the carbon monoxide detector. My heart began pumping quicker, signaling to me that we probably needed to evacuate the house before submitting to a gas induced death. I jumped out of bed. I tried to think about where the cat carrier was. I found the dog sleeping on the couch, unimpressed by my antics. I put on shoes. I did not put on a bra. I grabbed my cell phone. These are the actions that I took in a very sleepy and very confusing emergency. I texted my husband, in a calm fashion. I was instructed to climb an it’s-too-early-for-this-$hiz-step-ladder and press a button that said “SILENCE”. As it turns out, the carbon monoxide detector was simply malfunctioning. Phew. In celebration that I would not be evacuating my home, and would in fact live to see the afternoon, I passed out into a deep sleep still wearing a questionable pair of crocks. I only know that I wore my crocks to bed because I woke up with them off and under the covers. It’s confusing to wake up with a rubber clog negotiating its way into your backside. […]

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