I did my civic duty and tidied up the common driveway today, shoveling up a spilled bag of charcoal which someone had dropped the other day. I came in and promptly got out of my dirty, sweaty jeans and was about to turn the shower on when the smoke alarm started blaring away. Mega decibels and there I am naked and not knowing what to do next. I threw on all the dirty clothes while looking through papers to find the landlord's phone number. Rushed down the steps and placed the call.
Two handymen showed up in about five-ten minutes. These guys are cute. They've already patched my kitchen screen and given me a new mailbox. They're probably a little younger than me. I hope they don't think I'm finding excuses to have them over. Then again, what's the harm? We decided that it may have been some "dust" which triggered the bloody alarm. Not sure. Great. Next time I'll be sleeping and in my nightgown. Ray and George and I are certainly getting acquainted.
Do you think the household ghosts are having some fun at my expense? Maybe they're nudging me back into the world of men.
Where there's smoke, there's fire.