I swear I can’t go a week, or barely a day, without some debacle. I suppose since they’re a major part of this blog it’s a necessary evil. This particular event was earlier today when I could have sworn my house was on fire. I came home from work and the first thing I noticed when I got out of my car was the smell of burnt frozen pizza. You know the smell…the little pieces that fall off and burn in the bottom of the oven? That’s what I was smelling. We live in a very small, close community (and by that I mean the houses, not the people as I dislike all my neighbors…but that’s a story for another day), so I assumed someone was making pizza. Until I walked into my smoky house. Or what I thought was a smoky house.
I should first mention that I’ve been sick (….again, I know!!). All my senses have been off for several days. It’s the nasty head cold W has been carrying around and I had the misfortune of picking it up. It’s been miserable. So when I first walked in I wasn’t immediately positive that the smoke was real. My hearing is impaired and I feel as if I’m walking around in a daze. I thought maybe it was all in my head. I blinked a few times, squinted, thinking that might help but I couldn’t be sure. My eyesight is horrible even when I’m not sick and when I have my coke bottle glasses on it’s worse. I tried to sniff the air but due to my stuffy nose it wasn’t trustworthy. My first thought was the kitchen; maybe the hubby had decided to cook before work and forgotten to turn off the oven. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary I checked the rest of the house but could find no source. Next the dog and I did a perimeter check, then walked around the neighbors to see if it was coming from them. I could sense nothing out of the ordinary.
When I went back to the house it had gotten worse and I knew I wasn’t going crazy. Despite my impaired judgement and instincts I knew something was wrong. I’m crawling around the house, checking closets and outlets and I’m on the phone with W, who was busy at work, reassuring me he didn’t leave anything on and it’s probably nothing. We lived most of the summer with smoke in the house because of the wildfires that burned outside the city and smoke gets in through every crevice. I know a lot about fire since I work for a fire department so it tends to make me paranoid (…this paired with sickness seem to be common themes, do they not?). Fires behind walls and in electrical outlets are very common; they are actual fears of mine.
As I’m debating calling the fire department it occured to me my house is a disaster. Kleenex lay strewn about; some from me and others the dog has dug out of the trash. Blankets cover the couches, Zu’s toys lay scattered in every direction, the table is covered in the Black Friday purchases I haven’t had time to put away yet. There was no way I’d let anyone into my house, burning or not, when it was in such a state. My cleaning eventually took me out to the porch where I heard machinery noises coming from neighbors on the other side of the fence. It seemed a little smoky out there as well. They’re always up to something so I decided it had to be coming from them. By this time I was exhausted and a nap seemed like a better idea than calling firemen.
So that’s exactly what I did. When I woke up the construction noises had stopped and most of the smoke was gone. I have no idea what they are doing over there but the most confusing part is why did it smell like pizza?