Phew, boy do I feel invigorated this morning after a cold shower and hair wash! At one point I thought my brain was going to shut down, the water was that cold!
Luckily however, I have a boiler man booked on Thursday to hopefully fix the problem – at great expense...
Plumbers it seems are like supermodels – they don’t get out of bed for less than a set amount.
Oh the joys of flat owning.
Recently however, I've noticed how much better I've been sleeping in my little flat. And I think part of this is to do with lack of worrying when I settle down at night – largely due to my fire alarm system. You see, by having the vibrating pad under my pillow and flashing light by my bed, I am totally prevented from lying awake for a few minutes thinking about whether or not there’ll be a fire and if I'll wake up and if anyone will rescue me before I drown in smoke – like the gruesome TV advert.
Now, I know that this is no longer an issue, so I have one less pre-slumber worry!
Amazing!
So anyway, this week, apart from the cold showers, is going well. This morning I ran 3 ½ miles, just half a mile shy of my race length, and apart from a wavering moment two thirds of the way around, I really enjoyed it.
And the best thing is how I feel afterwards.
Invigorated!
Positive!
Alive!
All great ways to start the day.
Indeed, I was feeling great until that cold shower…
Roll on Thursday!
Showing posts with label vibrating fire alarm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vibrating fire alarm. Show all posts
Tuesday, 20 April 2010
Wednesday, 7 April 2010
An unexpected trial of my deaf fire alarm
Last night I nearly got the chance to try out my new vibrating/flashing all-singing-all-dancing fire alarm – except I was out at the pub.
On returning from the pub – where we came second in the quiz and won some lovely cider glasses, the acrid smell I had smelt the time my neighbours actually did burn their flat down, greeted me. It had me in a flap. My heart was racing and my eyes were imagining the strobe light of my alarm before I’d even got through the door.
There, Friend Who Knows Big Words was able to find out from French Boy, who had passed on the pub quiz in favour of watching football, that there had indeed been a fire – a very little one, in the form of a smoking tubigrip bandage.
You see, since he fell down a waterfall in Vietnam and trashed his ankle, poor old French Boy has been limping. To alleviate the pain, he’s been wearing a support and last night, in an attempt to get rid of a loose thread, he burnt the said loose thread and rested the tubigrip bandage on the suitcase in my spare room.
But the tubigrip bandage had other ideas and continued to smolder – burning a hole in itself in the process and melting the suitcase.
‘My carpet?’ I gasped on returning.
‘Unscathed!’ was Friend Who Knows Big Words reassuring reply.
*Phew
‘French Boy?’ I enquired.
‘Thankfully not wearing the bandage at the time of the fire…’ she added.
It was scary though – and made me all the more thankful for my flashing, vibrating fire alarm.
Three cheers for London Fire Brigade I say!
On returning from the pub – where we came second in the quiz and won some lovely cider glasses, the acrid smell I had smelt the time my neighbours actually did burn their flat down, greeted me. It had me in a flap. My heart was racing and my eyes were imagining the strobe light of my alarm before I’d even got through the door.
There, Friend Who Knows Big Words was able to find out from French Boy, who had passed on the pub quiz in favour of watching football, that there had indeed been a fire – a very little one, in the form of a smoking tubigrip bandage.
You see, since he fell down a waterfall in Vietnam and trashed his ankle, poor old French Boy has been limping. To alleviate the pain, he’s been wearing a support and last night, in an attempt to get rid of a loose thread, he burnt the said loose thread and rested the tubigrip bandage on the suitcase in my spare room.
But the tubigrip bandage had other ideas and continued to smolder – burning a hole in itself in the process and melting the suitcase.
‘My carpet?’ I gasped on returning.
‘Unscathed!’ was Friend Who Knows Big Words reassuring reply.
*Phew
‘French Boy?’ I enquired.
‘Thankfully not wearing the bandage at the time of the fire…’ she added.
It was scary though – and made me all the more thankful for my flashing, vibrating fire alarm.
Three cheers for London Fire Brigade I say!
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