Yesterday I texted everyone I know with “Happy Friday” because I was so happy it was Friday. I had a rough week at work, with projects galore, and at one point I was working on three things at the same time just so I could leave work at a decent time (they’re not really keen on allowing me overtime) and somehow managed to pull it off with a smile. My manager put two and two together and mentioned how blown away he was that I was able to get everything done in such a short amount of time. (I don’t think anyone realized that the other was giving me stuff to do on top of the stuff I was already doing and when they finally went over the day’s events they figured it out and thanked me for doing three things at once, which might be difficult for someone else, but I’m Super-Kristy or something). In any case, I was glad it was Friday and that I would have the weekend to do what I wanted. A couple of people texted back and forth, making me smile periodically during the day, and seriously, once it neared 5:30 I could not get out of there sooner. Actually, I left ten minutes earlier than I was supposed to because I had already put so much overtime and I’m not sure that I will actually get paid for the time… which really blows, but I’ll find ways to make up for it, believe me.
So, I go to Mamoun’s for dinner. It’s really crowded in there, but the food was just so good. It even tastes better on Friday nights, somehow. Falafel is magical. And I walk over to the store, which is out of my way, to get a chocolate bar to eat while I’m watching either a movie (nothing playing at the theater that I haven’t already seen or wanted to see) or Best Week Ever/Talk Soup, because it’s my Friday night guilty pleasure.
When I get home, a smell hits me… kinda smells like someone cooked something and burned it. I haven’t been home all day, and my sister still isn’t home from eight o’clock that morning. My mind immediately begins racing: Has someone been in our house? Have the old electrical wires finally given out? Am I going to die from Carbon Monoxide fumes once I walk into the house? I immediately open all the windows, and start checking for any smoke in the house or sparks or SOMETHING, but there’s absolutely nothing. I can’t stay in the house too long because the smell is giving me a headache. The fridge is not sounding too good, but the smell is just everywhere and I can’t tell if that’s where it’s coming from. I was smelling appliances and checking electrical outlets and nothing. I get out of the house and call my sister, she’s just about home. I call the fire department and after blabbering on every single piece of information that’s running through my head and trying to get the address straight (my street name sounds A LOT like another street name in New Haven, to the point where I have to spell it out and give exact directions), they finally tell me that they’ll be there right away. I’ve never had to call them! This makes me even more nervous, and I wonder if I should be standing so close to my house in fear that it might blow.
So, five minutes later, two firetrucks including a random SUV from the Fire department as well show up at my house with sirens and everything. I remember thinking that they were there really quick and that I was upset that they used the sirens because I didn’t want to attract a lot of attention because my house wasn’t in flames yet and what if someone else was having a bigger emergency and here I am taking up two trucks and about ten or so firemen?? My sister shows up at the same exact time and when we see each other, we just laugh, because there’s nothing else to do.
They ask a million questions, and I’m trying to answer best I can, and they’re leading me back in the house asking me to smell certain areas, “Is this the smell? Or is this the smell?” The smell is kinda going away, but we have every window open in the house and it’s strongest when we first walk in the house and in the kitchen. Seriously, they make me put my face close to appliances like the stove, fridge, etc and I just want to get out of there because the smell is making me nauseated and I can feel a migraine/panic attack/something coming on… so, still my smelling powers are not enough and they’re still asking questions which is, I guess, just doing their job but it was really weird to me, because they thought there was still food in the microwave or stove. I just kept thinking, I don’t leave food in there. Who leaves food in the microwave or stove? Don’t you just eat it after it’s done? (I joked with my sister about it later, and I’m like, “Dude, look at me, I’m fat, does it look like I leave my food in the microwave?” Which is what I wanted to say, but didn’t because I wanted to be as helpful and polite as possible) I imagine they find all sorts of stuff — burned popcorn left in the microwave, crisp and overdone meatloaf in the oven, houses that you can barely walk through because there’s so much clutter, “Don’t step on the dead body” kind of thing. Our house is messy, but it’s not dirty, and I felt ashamed because it was kinda messy and I had just done laundry so their were clothes all over and I hadn’t done the dishes, and if this would just have happened on Sunday instead, when I clean the house, it would have been fine… but during the week I can give a shit about cleaning the house.
In any case, they are still stumped. My new neighbor directly upstairs had left for the weekend, and I had just spoke to her before the fire department was called in, and asked for her number in case we needed to get in to her apartment. I call, leave a message, and she doesn’t call back. The guy on the third floor looks to be home. His car is there. Lights are on. We’re pounding on the door, ringing the doorbell but no one is answering. WTF, if there were sirens going on outside my house and lights flashing and stomping around I would want to know what was going on. My sister calls our landlord and he doesn’t call back either (til about 11:30 or so that night, four hours after this all had gone down). Our next door neighbor comes out of his house to go out, and doesn’t even look concerned or ask us how we are. A random girl from down the street that I don’t know asked if we needed any help or a place to stay, which was really nice of her especially since we don’t even know her, but we thanked her and said we were alright. We’re about ready to pack a bag and get a hotel, but the firemen call us in and tell us they’ve found the source: the refrigerator. They unplugged it. Something malfunctioned. It was the only thing closest to the source of the smell (and the heat detector). Kelly and I had just gone food shopping the other day. We were able to salvage a few things in the cooler (a very small cooler) but there was probably $200 worth of food and drinks (the beer is still cold as it’s sitting by an open window and it’s fucking freezing out, along with some cranberry juice and apple juice — that shit’s not cheap) we had to throw out. Sounds like a lot but we eat better than ramen noodles and cheap tv dinners. We joked about it for a while, but it soon wore out.
The house was cold all night, since we had to leave at least one window open, and I didn’t have a great sleep, seeing as I couldn’t rest well thinking that the house still had the potential to burn down, that someone might try to get through the window (although it’s technically a second floor window), and ridiculousness 4 a.m. texting when I knew I should have turned off that option from twitter. I don’t care about Martin Tielli at 4 a.m. sorry.
So, the house smells fine, although I won’t use the stove or any electrical appliances around that area. The new refrigerator is supposed to come today, but I wouldn’t count on it. I guess I’ll be eating out for a while. It’s fine, but I thought I was going to save some money. (Still in the beginning stages of planning that trip to the UK/Paris!) My plans to go to Arizona next month are busted, though, as I don’t know who replaces what and I have medical bills I’m still paying off because my health insurance is rotten and I honestly don’t know why I pay for it. Fucking deductibles.
Planning for the trip though, is a great distraction. After getting over the withdrawal from social networks, I’ve found myself better rested, writing more, having more creative thought processes and such… and appreciating things a lot better, like phone calls and texts and e-mails and just little things. Getting certain people out of my life has had such a positive effect, I can’t even tell you. I’m still fucked up over a lot of things, but unfortunately there are things you can’t get over at the snap of a finger. Takes time, I realize that. I am the most patiently impatient person ever. Really.
(And, randomly, since the Smiths just came up on shuffle, I discovered a co-worker loves the Smiths and we just had a “OMG YOU LIKE THE SMITHS TOO” moment and it was really awesome and little things like that are essential for the work week. Then we talked about Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and I was like “SOMEONE AT WORK I CAN TALK TO ABOUT THINGS THAT ARE NOT GREY’S ANATOMY OR OTHER BAD TELEVISION SHOWS”)