Beep.

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Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

It starts.  The damn beeps start.

And I can’t figure out which alarm has the dead battery.  It’s like I’m in the Twilight Zone.  Like someone’s gas lighting me.

I stand under the one in my bedroom.  The noise is so loud, it’s got to be coming from close by.

Nothing.  I’m there for two, three minutes, although it feels like an hour.  Nothing.  Crickets.

I go back to the bed.  Lay down.  Shut my eyes.   I start to relax.  Visions of sugar plums and crap like that.

Beep.

YOU BASTARD!

I take the alarm in my bedroom down.

How do you get this damn battery out of here?  You sac-o-wheat.  I can’t get it out!  Good lord.  It’s childproof.  I could break into the Alamo more easily than this.  Where’s the frickin’ screw driver?

Back to bed.  I’m so dang tired.

Mmmm.  It’s cold.  My teeth are chattering.

Zzzzz.

Beep.

I wish I had a gun.  I’d blow every stinkin’ one of them off of the ceiling. 

I begin picturing myself, Bruce Willis style, machine gun out, blasting the plaster off of my ceiling.  Oh, oh how good it feels.

As I stand, quietly, under the one in the kitchen, I glance at the clock on the stove.  The green neon lights are bright because the rest of the house is pitch black.

It’s 4:13 AM, and I am in my underwear standing in the middle of the kitchen waiting for a beep!  This is un-believable.

I hear it again.

The dining room!  Ahh.

I grab a chair and yank the damn thing down.  I remove the batteries and set it on the kitchen counter.

Finally.  Peace.

I head back to bed and set the empty alarm on my bedside table.

It’s 4:26.

I’m so, so tired.

Beep.

There’s no battery in here and it’s still beeping!  How can that be?  It has become a living being!  You son-of-a-.

I turn off the burglar alarm and stomp to the back door.  It’s got to be 20 degrees out here.  I walk out on the porch and heave it as far as I possibly can.

“Beep all you want you good for nothing piece of crap.”  I wonder if the neighbors can hear.

I lay back down.  It’s 4:44.  I have breakfast meeting starting in 2 and a half hours.

I turn over on my sleeping side, my comfy pillow between my knees to keep them from knocking together.

Beep.

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14 Comments

  1. I think it must be a law of nature that alarms must need batteries replaced at 2am! Why is that?

    Reply
  2. Apparently you get used to the beeping… My folks left theirs in the kitchen drawer for a YEAR(!!!) before changing the battery….

    Reply
  3. Lmbo!! I went through this the other night. And then we put new batteries in and it wouldn’t stop beeping! I told Mr. T to just take the batteries out.

    Two days later, another one starts going off. We replace the batteries.

    It won’t stop beeping.

    There is a little note on them that you are supposed to use these very specific batteries. Not sure I’m believing it, but apparently I’ll be buying it!

    Reply
  4. What I want to know is why do the batteries never run out during the day?! This made me laugh because I, too, have been standing in the dark staring at the ceiling waiting for a beep! It’s SO maddening!!

    Reply
  5. Made me laugh… last year this happened to me, who knows maybe 2am… I just pulled the whole thing out of the wall… it still hangs there. I have no desire to put it back, guess I’ll regret it when the fire begins.

    Reply
  6. Oh my word, I do this.

    Reply
  7. Neil

     /  March 27, 2014

    Amazing that only in the middle of the night the batteries decide to expire. How come the laws of probabilities do not apply to fire alarm batteries??

    Reply
  8. That is so funny….you are good

    Reply
  9. Pam Burnette

     /  March 31, 2014

    Hysterical I can relate.

    Reply

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