It happens to everyone, yes?

Did you ever do something you know you're smarter than to do, but which was innately human and yet embarrassing to take responsibility for? Have you ever been in a panic situation?

Well, I have. It happened to me.

Meet Rocky. He's a 6 year old Red Eared Slider. He lives with us. In that clear glass box.  This is relevant, I swear.

Matt and I have been fondly referring to the wildfire of last week as the "free excitement" that our apartment complex so graciously supplies to us. I mean, with our monthly rent we get all the following amenities:

Granite countertops
Full tile showers
A full garage
Excellent maintenance staff
An incredible view
Exercise room, leisure room, and pool
....and all the adrenaline-pumping excitement you can stand.

But I digress.

There was a lot more involved in the fire last week besides the awkward 911 call, evacuation procedures, and annoying calls with Allstate (that ended up not being needed). We also had a little..... carpet situation.

When the fire reached the transformers in our area and they exploded blew, leaving us without power, that was my first inkling there was something wrong outside. (I had been falling asleep for a nap on the couch, and thought I smelled our neighbors starting their barbeque early, but I was horribly mistaken wrong.)

This weekend I had to send an embarrassing maintenance request to our leasing office, which Matt states is due to an innately human reaction on my part, but I'm still horribly embarrassed and too scared to think of what the possible outcomes could have been were we not so lucky. Tomorrow the new carpet people are coming to repair our carpet and I am seriously considering leaving them the following note.

Dear Benchmark Carpet Repair,

Hi! We are so happy that you are here to repair our carpet, and regret that we will not be present to answer any questions you may have. If you do have any questions while you're here, please feel free to call me at XXX-XXX-XXXX, and I will be able to answer your questions.

But let me explain.

See that turtle? The one right there? He's been around since I was in college. Which means I've had him for 6 years. (Can you believe how old I'm getting? I wish to not discuss that further.) And you see that lamp right there on top of him? That's how this happened:

But don't be fooled into thinking that I'm some irresponsible pet owner who shouldn't be allowed to handle simple circuited heat lamps while unsupervised. As previously stated, I've had Rocky since I was 21 and I've never had a situation such as this. Not when I drank a whole bunch, not when I was sad, or even when I got more responsible a few years ago last year.

That lamp (which has since been replaced, but we're talking generalizations, here) never touches the floor. For a number of reasons:
1. I have a science degree and I understand that UV light bulbs generate heat (you know, like the sun does)
2. Small enclosed spaces + direct heat light = serious trouble. (Want proof? Check the floor.)
3. I'm terribly scared of fire. Terribly scared.
4. I don't enjoy getting in trouble or doing anything wrong. (Perfectionistic control freak? Me? Have you read any of this letter?)

So, approximately one week ago, there was a great big fire behind our apartment. And when the transformers blew, and the power was out, and I looked out the window to see 50 foot flames fire behind our fence, I maybe sort of panicked. Like the hysterical kind of panic.

Who knew I'd not be in control all the time.

After placing our very sweet kitty, who I'm sure you've met by now because he is only a little bit annoying, in his kennel, ending a very humorous call with 911, figuring out how to open the garage door without power proving that I'm not effectively trapped in this apartment, I then decided to grab the turtle for our evacuation. I picked up the lamp, which was off due to the power outage, placed it on the floor, put the turtle in an ice chest (because I couldn't find his traveling ball..... a whole other story), grabbed my purse and left. I didn't even put the grate back on top of the cage, because I thought I was about to die. I could smell smoke, which turned out to not be from a barbeque, and my eyes were burning, and I was scared. (I was also alone, but I feel bad guilt-tripping Matt for that because he was at work. So I won't mention it. Again.)

When we came home, almost immediately after the power came back on, and as soon as they'd let us back in, we found the lamp on the floor, and it had turned back on.

I am well aware of what could have happened to not only our apartment, but the entire building if we had decided to not come home that night. I lost lots of sleep over the "what ifs" of the situation, and the guilt and disappointment in myself because every firefighter in town spent 8 hours that day out here fighting fires and keeping all these homes from burning and I almost did that with a lamp.

It took me almost a week to muster the courage to notify our leasing office about my mistake, which was an embarrassing email as well.

Anyways, long story short, I am very sorry for burning a hole in our carpet. And yes, I know what could have happened. Yes, I know we're lucky that it wasn't worse. And we are very appreciative of you all repairing it. Hopefully you can make it a patch job instead of having to rip this whole section up, yes?

Thanks a bunch,

Me.

Panic situations

So.... there was a fire this labor day. Immediately behind our apartment. Yup our backyard caught fire.
And by "backyard", I mean "the giant park in the canyon we overlook".
I didn't know about this fire until it had reached our complex and the transformers behind our building exploded.
NOT LIKE IN THE MOVIES. Our transformers did NOT save the day.
So I called 911 once I looked outside and saw flames. Which, in hindsight seemed to be everywhere and very close. But now they seem a little farther away than originally thought.
Anyways, my 911 call was apparently hysterical. It went a little like this:
911 operator: Do you need fire, EMS, or police?
Me: fire! I need fire!
911 operator: let me connect you. One moment.
::recording:: all operators are currently busy. Do not hang up.
Me: you've got to be fucking kidding me. (I'm running around the apt trying to get the cat, the turtle, and figure out how to get my car out of the garage since the power is out.)
911 operator: I'm sorry ma'am. They'll be right with you.
Me: (clearly not realizing she could hear me.) Oh, um. Thanks. Whoops.
Dispatcher: how may I help you?
Me: hi, I live at ::here:: and the transformers behind our building just blew up and there is a fire now.
D: in the stone oak park area?
Me: yes. It's behind our apartment and the flames are right behind the fence.
D: ok ma'am, we already have responders in the area.
Me: ok well its a fire. And its behind my apartment. And I can't get out of the garage because the power is out and I need to get the cat and I can't see anything because there are no lights on and I'm effectively trapped in this apartment and there is a fire right outside.
D: ok ma'am. There should be a latch you pull to get the garage manually open.
Me: this one? ::yank:: now what? Nothing happened!
D: you should be able to just pull it open on your own.
Me: you're amazing. Thank you.
D: do you need anything else?
Me: no. I can go to my mom's house. She is nearby. Thank you very much.
Then I thought I Hung up the phone. I pushed end. You know what my phone does? I have to push end twice. To be sure I guess. I didn't know that. So the dispatcher heard the following:
Me: Come on, kitty! You wanna go to grandma's house? Come on, kitty! We gotta go now!
Then I heard the dispatcher still talking. So I put the phone to my ear and said, "um... do I need to do anything else?"
D: no ma'am. Do you still need us?
Me: nope, we are leaving now. Thanks.
And I really hung up the phone that time.