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It's nothing new for me to wake up at odd hours of the night. So when I woke up at 3am Sunday morning, I snuck to the bathroom, then came back and played a few rounds of games, did a little light reading, and figured that since my water bottle was down to its last cup, I might as well go refill it before getting back to sleep. I tiptoed into the kitchen, what I thought was quietly. (Squeak.) Huh, that's a new one, usually the squeak is in the middle of the hall by the bathroom. I filled the water bottle. (Squeak.)
Okay, that sounded like a dying smoke alarm. Dammit. I thought Belovedest had replaced all the batteries that needed replacing? Around the equinox? Like it says on our holiday sheets? In any case, it was quiet, probably downstairs, and if it was downstairs I probably wouldn't hear it in bed. And the middle of the night is cold, so the electrons do not flow as freely, and that's when they start beeping. Dammit. So I went back to bed and got tucked in and pulled the blanket over my eyes. (squeak.)
At this point Anxiety Brain(TM) kicked in. WHAT IF IT'S REALLY THAT THE BASEMENT IS ON FIRE. No. The basement is not on fire. It would do a "beeeedeeeeeedeeeebeeddedeeedeeeeee" if that were the case. BUT WHAT IF IT JUST SMELLS A LITTLE SMOKE.
And then my Traitor Brain did a THING.
*puff*
For one hot second, in my next breath, I smelled smoke.
ALL the alarm bells went off. Despite my trusty beta blocker, I was now ready to do battle with a bear or drag a couch out of a building.
I sampled the next noseful. Nothing. But was that nothing as in nothing, or nothing as in my nose had acclimated?
DAMMIT BRAIN, I thought back hard. My fucking traitor brain had served me an olfactory hallucination. It was sweet wood smoke, not the sort of smoke you get from a house fire or a stove fire or any other kind of fire. The platonic essence of smoke, not real smoke. Brain, you asshole.
You cannot argue with that much adrenaline, so I settled myself in for another few hours of quiet bed-related activities. I was still awake around 7 when Belovedest's alarm started going off. They said they'd go look for the chirp. Then it took me a while longer after that to get back to sleep, finally.
My brain has occasionally served me little harmless olfactory hallucinations over the years. This is the most obnoxious one yet.
Around 2, I stirred and realized that Belovedest was still here. It only belatedly hit that of course they were home, it was Easter, and the Christian-centric US public holidays meant that their workplace would be closed.
Belovedest had a nice chat with both their parents (separately); I sent their mom the picture I'd made them pose for with the Costco-sized sack of Cadbury Eggs (the kind with the texture like a blackboard). We chatted ham radio with their dad (he is pro ham radio; I joked that the first exam sounded like learning which government agency you've just pissed off if you build your antenna wrong). Their aunt recently had surgery for her Dupuytren's contracture (shit!!!) and it was successful and she's recovering nicely, but that plus Belovedest's great-grandfather having it bad means that we need to watch Belovedest like a hawk. I have looked up the info for the places that do the radiotherapy for it; there is one in Yakima, which is a moderately obnoxious drive away.
This morning, I heard the chirp again. Belovedest and I got dressed for my car's appointment, then did A Listen. It was downstairs, of course, and it was one where Belovedest had already changed the battery. So we'll have to get a replacement. Sigh.
We dropped the car off. I'd had a line on some scrap foam, and with Alex wanting a particular pillow project, foam sounded like just the thing. The place was in Tumwater. I called, and had a nice chat with the person, the proprietor of a tiny boutique mattress and cushion shop. I determined that when we do that couch project I've been talking about, she's the person to commission the replacement cushions from if DIY seems like a bad idea. (DIY seems like a bad idea.)
We ... have foam.
We probably could have fit more into the car, by putting the seat down and doing some very specific squishing, but it expands to fill available space, and there was enough that it took up lots of it. So I've got some plans for things; I'm waiting on a long upholstery needle to string some yarn loosely through the perforations to discourage it from drifting, and I'll need the correct adhesive for some of the more ambitious concepts. Currently lined up we have lonmg bolster for Alex, and work-chair cushion for Belovedest. Perhaps also a bed wedge for Belovedest.
Okay, that sounded like a dying smoke alarm. Dammit. I thought Belovedest had replaced all the batteries that needed replacing? Around the equinox? Like it says on our holiday sheets? In any case, it was quiet, probably downstairs, and if it was downstairs I probably wouldn't hear it in bed. And the middle of the night is cold, so the electrons do not flow as freely, and that's when they start beeping. Dammit. So I went back to bed and got tucked in and pulled the blanket over my eyes. (squeak.)
At this point Anxiety Brain(TM) kicked in. WHAT IF IT'S REALLY THAT THE BASEMENT IS ON FIRE. No. The basement is not on fire. It would do a "beeeedeeeeeedeeeebeeddedeeedeeeeee" if that were the case. BUT WHAT IF IT JUST SMELLS A LITTLE SMOKE.
And then my Traitor Brain did a THING.
*puff*
For one hot second, in my next breath, I smelled smoke.
ALL the alarm bells went off. Despite my trusty beta blocker, I was now ready to do battle with a bear or drag a couch out of a building.
I sampled the next noseful. Nothing. But was that nothing as in nothing, or nothing as in my nose had acclimated?
DAMMIT BRAIN, I thought back hard. My fucking traitor brain had served me an olfactory hallucination. It was sweet wood smoke, not the sort of smoke you get from a house fire or a stove fire or any other kind of fire. The platonic essence of smoke, not real smoke. Brain, you asshole.
You cannot argue with that much adrenaline, so I settled myself in for another few hours of quiet bed-related activities. I was still awake around 7 when Belovedest's alarm started going off. They said they'd go look for the chirp. Then it took me a while longer after that to get back to sleep, finally.
My brain has occasionally served me little harmless olfactory hallucinations over the years. This is the most obnoxious one yet.
Around 2, I stirred and realized that Belovedest was still here. It only belatedly hit that of course they were home, it was Easter, and the Christian-centric US public holidays meant that their workplace would be closed.
Belovedest had a nice chat with both their parents (separately); I sent their mom the picture I'd made them pose for with the Costco-sized sack of Cadbury Eggs (the kind with the texture like a blackboard). We chatted ham radio with their dad (he is pro ham radio; I joked that the first exam sounded like learning which government agency you've just pissed off if you build your antenna wrong). Their aunt recently had surgery for her Dupuytren's contracture (shit!!!) and it was successful and she's recovering nicely, but that plus Belovedest's great-grandfather having it bad means that we need to watch Belovedest like a hawk. I have looked up the info for the places that do the radiotherapy for it; there is one in Yakima, which is a moderately obnoxious drive away.
This morning, I heard the chirp again. Belovedest and I got dressed for my car's appointment, then did A Listen. It was downstairs, of course, and it was one where Belovedest had already changed the battery. So we'll have to get a replacement. Sigh.
We dropped the car off. I'd had a line on some scrap foam, and with Alex wanting a particular pillow project, foam sounded like just the thing. The place was in Tumwater. I called, and had a nice chat with the person, the proprietor of a tiny boutique mattress and cushion shop. I determined that when we do that couch project I've been talking about, she's the person to commission the replacement cushions from if DIY seems like a bad idea. (DIY seems like a bad idea.)
We ... have foam.
We probably could have fit more into the car, by putting the seat down and doing some very specific squishing, but it expands to fill available space, and there was enough that it took up lots of it. So I've got some plans for things; I'm waiting on a long upholstery needle to string some yarn loosely through the perforations to discourage it from drifting, and I'll need the correct adhesive for some of the more ambitious concepts. Currently lined up we have lonmg bolster for Alex, and work-chair cushion for Belovedest. Perhaps also a bed wedge for Belovedest.
