FIRE!

From the title I guess you could deduce that I had something tragic happen to me. But, no, it was tragically funny. It was something that only I can do well - and get away with.

My boss went to his 2pm appointment and Jennifer used the time to go to the framing place and the bank. I decided that I wanted some tea while I did the mail sheet. Perhaps I should first explain the layout of our building and then our kitchen.

The building is like a townhouse with three levels. There are offices on the first and second floor and a residence on the 3rd. We are on the second floor and you can access our office from both the front and back of the building. The "front door" is located at the back of the building (?), while the "back" side is on the bayside where the entrance is (?).

The reason we call it the "back" side of the office is because the door from the bayside leads directly into our kitchen which always looks like some explosion took place and we are in the aftermath of cleaning up.

For some reason we even have a stove/oven combo in the kitchen. It is a very cramped little arrangement. You can't even open the oven door all the way because the fridge is in the way. So, while leaning over to the microwave, which is stuck in the corner, my hip must have turned the stove element on.

Seeing as no one ever uses the silly stove/ oven there is all kinds of stuff on top - in this particular case, a crock pot of all things.

I was innocently doing the mail at my desk - supposedly alone in the office. I kept hearing a noise in the kitchen and hoped it wasn't a rat. But, not too much later I started smelling burning, saw the smoke and knew I was in trouble. By then all the smoke alarms were screeching - driving me into a further state of panic.

The fire was really not big enough to waste a fire extinguisher on, so I just turned off the element, pulled the crock pot off the hot plate and the fire started dying down to the point that I could just blow it out like a candle. Thank God it worked!

The smoke alarms took forever to go shut up. I thought the whole neighbourhood must have heard by that point that I was being an idiot.

So, I've learned an important lesson: fighting fire is not the hard part - dangerous, but not hard. No, sirree, it's cleaning up all the SOOT and BLACK FLYING PLASTIC afterwards.

Jennifer is a great girl and she came back to the office to come and help me clean up. I'm sure that we'll still smell smoke in certain nooks and crannies for a while considering the smoke filled every office.

My boss came back and laughed at me, dubbing me the "firebug". I told him I thought there wasn't enough excitement at the office. He laughed again. Everyone was laughing.

Oh, and now I have black soot IN my nose. Well, I guess I now have the experience to write about fires. Research would have sufficed - seriously!