So, I went to Jessica’s yesterday for some spinning and socializing. I even finally (finally!) finished the batch of spinning I started several years ago.
Well, okay, it wasn’t years, but it WAS months. As in, April. But, anyway, I treadled away for about two hours while we all chatted and laughed and had fun and finished just as we all took a break for food about 3:00. And, well, something didn’t agree with me. I finally left Jessica’s at 4:30 and felt pretty much sick most of the drive home (not nauseated, but, um, lower than that, if you take my meaning. You don’t really want me to be more graphic, right?)
So, I got home about about 5:00 and my parents were out to dinner, and I managed to get my wheel, and my big knitting bag to the door and opened it, and turned to turn off the alarm. Except, I wasn’t really concentrating on anything other than getting in the door and to the bathroom and so my fingers stumbled on the keypad with the wrong number. And then I tried again, but it didn’t take the number that time, either. I dropped everything to the floor to try a third time, and by now the “beep beep beep” is getting faster because my allotted minute is almost up and then ….
WOW! That thing is loud. Ear-piercingly, mind-numbingly LOUD. Really, really, obnoxiously LOUD. And obnoxious. And LOUD.
Now, at this point, all I really want to do is get to the bathroom. Poor Chappy is bracing his paws in the hallway with his eyes wide, trying to figure out why his house is making this awful noise, and I CAN’T GET IT TO STOP. And then Chappy started to bark this awful, high-pitched, terrified bark, like he was screaming, “Make it stop! Make it stop!” (Which, really, is exactly what he was saying, I’m sure. I know I was.) But that didn’t help matters, either–my little boy was in distress!
I don’t usually fall apart in minor crises like this, but I wasn’t really at my best last night, and finally, I just grabbed the phone and went out the back door with Chappy so we could hear ourselves think. I thought I heard the phone ring–and the alarm company IS supposed to call–but when I answered it, there was no dial tone. That’s actually happened a couple times this week, so I don’t know if it was a fluke or if the alarm somehow interrupted the phone signal, but so that didn’t work. I made another dash into the kitchen to try to get the alarm to turn OFF, but still no luck, and by now I’m thinking the police could be on their way. So I headed to the front door and reached for Chappy’s leash … and looked down … he had dashed out the front door on his own and was almost to the driveway, he was so frantic to get AWAY from the awful noise.
Meanwhile, I still really needed to go to the bathroom, and the noise is making me just as frantic as Chappy, and, darn it, I can’t stand there all night, waiting for the police to get there or the alarm company to call and turn the thing OFF. So I tried one more time at the number pad and … blessed silence.
I apologized to Chappy, and would normally have immediately sat down to soothe my poor, frantic dog, but … no, I really had to go to the bathroom. And why hadn’t the alarm company called? And, when were the police going to come? So I tried to be as, um, quick as possible, and then went to sit with Chappy in the dining room, watching for the police car I was sure must be on its way since I hadn’t heard from the alarm company. Well, poor Chappy was still shaking and practically climbed on top of me for comforting, and I was apologizing to him for scaring him so much. I’ve NEVER heard him bark like that. If the noise was so godawful for my ears, I can only imagine how much it hurt his more sensitive ears. And that made me feel even worse.
But, because of my, um, abdomen issues, I couldn’t sit with him for more than a few minutes, so I figured I’d carry my wheel upstairs. Of course, he followed me up and wasn’t watching where he was going and ended up hitting his head on the bottom of the wheel at the top of the stairs. (Neither of us was at our best just then.) I glanced at the phone as I put the spinning wheel down and … red, blinking light. That means there’s a voicemail message. (The downstairs phones don’t tell you when there’s voicemail–no help at all.) So, I call in and, yep, there’s a message from the alarm company, telling me to call a certain number and quote a 10-digit long “report number.”
Naturally, something was stuck in my desk drawer so that I couldn’t get to a piece of paper to write down the number. But eventually, I did, and dialed the 800-number with shaking fingers, gave our special passcode, and was told that, since the alarm had been cancelled soon enough, the police had NOT been dispatched. Which was a relief. I would have felt terrible about their making the trip for my own stupidity, but also, I really needed to spend some serious time in the bathroom and didn’t have the time to wait for them. Not to mention that my mother would have been frantic if she had gotten home and found a police car in the driveway!
So, at least that was something. All in all, I had a great day until about 3:30, a still nice but not so great from then until 5:00, and then all hell broke loose.
And, yes, even though I didn’t eat anything last night, Chappy got some extra supper AND an extra-good biscuit last night. He deserved it!
At least I have a beautiful skein of yarn to show for it. I don’t know the yardage, though. Dad walked in the room and started talking to me while I was winding it onto the skein winder–I was at 103 rotations at that point, but then lost count. “But, you were reading,” he said in self-defense. “Yeah, but I can count and read at the same time.” He just went away, shaking his head. You’d think after all these years he’d be used to the fact that I really can read and do all sorts of things at the same time!
• Tags: Finished Spinning, Friends, General, Knitting/Spinning • Permalink:From Fun to Terror // 8 Comments »