You know, sometimes, my life is too much. Writing that sentence gave me deja vu. But let me tell you–the batteries in my smoke detector need to be changed. And how do I know this? An incessant beep–every 30 seconds or so. And the smoke detector is too high–it touches the ceiling–and I can’t reach it from the tippy top of my step stool. So I’m at the mercy of my building super, who classifies this as a non-emergency. I beg to differ.
UPDATE (to a post that hasn’t been posted yet): I realized while trying to dismantle the smoke detector using a wooden spoon and fork that it was not in fact the smoke detector beeping. It was the CO2 detector. The easily reachable CO2 detector.
Think calming thoughts of Doris Day going, “Oooooooooh!”