One AM Haze
I went to bed at a reasonable hour. I was tired. Had a hard time falling asleep, but it was nice once I got there.
Then my security system went off. Loudly, repeatedly. Frantically.
Without really thinking about it, I yelled "Shut up!"
Then, I remembered we acquired this alarm for a reason. Well, not really a reason, per se, more like we realized the benefits of owning this alarm might outweigh the potential aggravation it would surely cause. So far, it has proven me wrong without fail. It is a high-maintenance system.
After I climbed out of my warm, cozy bed, where the covers and pillows were "just right", I took a detour to the potty. First things first, dammit. I can think more clearly with an empty bladder.
The alarm kept going on, and on, and on. It paused for a moment, before the accessory alarm kicked in. In unison, my complete and total package of high tech security was protecting us from whatever evils lurked downstairs.
They met me at the bottom of the steps. Both of them, clad in fur, panting with maniacal grins.
Resisting the urge to just get back in my blissful coma state, I took a look around. Basement, backyard, rear drive, front sidewalk, the vehicle, the mailbox. Why? I was half asleep. Chief alarmist #1 accompanied me, pausing to sniff at everything, and happily wagging his lethal tail at the thrill of it all. Ooohh, a field trip! he thought with his tiny little alarmist brain.
The accessory alarm had quieted, taking a dangerous pose on the far left sofa cushion in the front room. She would be protecting the furniture, and had it all under control. None shall pass.
Satisfied that all was clear, I returned inside with the realization that it is COLD. I know, I know, my thermometer says it is 48 degrees, and I really could just put on flannel jammies, but still. My folks will be coming to visit this weekend (hubby's 40-something birthday), and they-of-the-beach find PA weather rather chilly. Might as well start the radiators warming. Good as time as any. I check my oil level. I turn on the power. I slowly approach the thermostat, hoping that common sense might yet prevail. It does not. 66. Eh, maybe 67. 68? Furnace kicks on. What the hell, I have to be taking a shower in a few hours anyway, might as well be warm for it.
There arose more barking from the kitchen. Oh my, I fret, did I forget to look under the cabinets? Nay, nay, 'tis merely an argument over the food bowl. Same alarmist barking, signaling trouble, yet engaged at this time due to the accessory alarm's insistence that she is the Princess, she belonged in this household first, and she will let him know when he may eat.
I love that little girl.
Big dawg simply lays his furry ass down, and barks at the top of his lungs at her. She snarls, and growls, and yips back her warnings. He makes it appear as though Freddy and Jason are lurking nearby, and he will tear them limb from limb if they dare approach that food bowl. Yet he allows her to nibble away.
I'm going back to bed. False alarm. Fresh water, a pat on the head, and muttering through my gritted teeth. Puppy love. Can't explain it.
Then my security system went off. Loudly, repeatedly. Frantically.
Without really thinking about it, I yelled "Shut up!"
Then, I remembered we acquired this alarm for a reason. Well, not really a reason, per se, more like we realized the benefits of owning this alarm might outweigh the potential aggravation it would surely cause. So far, it has proven me wrong without fail. It is a high-maintenance system.
After I climbed out of my warm, cozy bed, where the covers and pillows were "just right", I took a detour to the potty. First things first, dammit. I can think more clearly with an empty bladder.
The alarm kept going on, and on, and on. It paused for a moment, before the accessory alarm kicked in. In unison, my complete and total package of high tech security was protecting us from whatever evils lurked downstairs.
They met me at the bottom of the steps. Both of them, clad in fur, panting with maniacal grins.
Resisting the urge to just get back in my blissful coma state, I took a look around. Basement, backyard, rear drive, front sidewalk, the vehicle, the mailbox. Why? I was half asleep. Chief alarmist #1 accompanied me, pausing to sniff at everything, and happily wagging his lethal tail at the thrill of it all. Ooohh, a field trip! he thought with his tiny little alarmist brain.
The accessory alarm had quieted, taking a dangerous pose on the far left sofa cushion in the front room. She would be protecting the furniture, and had it all under control. None shall pass.
Satisfied that all was clear, I returned inside with the realization that it is COLD. I know, I know, my thermometer says it is 48 degrees, and I really could just put on flannel jammies, but still. My folks will be coming to visit this weekend (hubby's 40-something birthday), and they-of-the-beach find PA weather rather chilly. Might as well start the radiators warming. Good as time as any. I check my oil level. I turn on the power. I slowly approach the thermostat, hoping that common sense might yet prevail. It does not. 66. Eh, maybe 67. 68? Furnace kicks on. What the hell, I have to be taking a shower in a few hours anyway, might as well be warm for it.
There arose more barking from the kitchen. Oh my, I fret, did I forget to look under the cabinets? Nay, nay, 'tis merely an argument over the food bowl. Same alarmist barking, signaling trouble, yet engaged at this time due to the accessory alarm's insistence that she is the Princess, she belonged in this household first, and she will let him know when he may eat.
I love that little girl.
Big dawg simply lays his furry ass down, and barks at the top of his lungs at her. She snarls, and growls, and yips back her warnings. He makes it appear as though Freddy and Jason are lurking nearby, and he will tear them limb from limb if they dare approach that food bowl. Yet he allows her to nibble away.
I'm going back to bed. False alarm. Fresh water, a pat on the head, and muttering through my gritted teeth. Puppy love. Can't explain it.
posted by Julie at 1:29 AM
3 Comments:
You make it sound so...so...nice. When, in fact, I know it is not nice at all. I have, on more than one occasion, screamed, "shut up," at the top of my lungs, such that I'm sure the neighbors think Steve and I are on the verge of divorcing. And when one gets going, the second one (and in our case the third, fourth, and fifth) feels the need to kick in as well. Why? Can someone explain that to me? It is NOT "nice" at all. But they're so dang cute, how can you stay mad at them?
That sounds like a form of torture. My alarm went through a phase of going off night after night - ALL night. Almost sent me over the edge. But I'm no good on little and disturbed sleep. Hope you got warmed up in the end:)
bow wow
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