A window into the life of a professional geek, wife and mother (and nonni), stitcher/designer, bibliophile, old-school gamer, and whatever other roles she finds herself in.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005


There must be a corollary to Murphy's Law that states that smoke detectors, and most notably the one closest to the master bedroom, will announce the presence of low battery at the most ungodly hours.

I woke up at such an hour, initially wondering why I was awake. Until I heard the *chirp*. At first I resolved to just change it tomorrow, but each time I had nearly succeeded in chasing down the elusive somnolence, that infernal *chirp* recalled me to consciousness. Despite my most ardent rationalizations against bestirring myself from a nice warm bed, I eventually found myself stumbling around for the demanded 9V, a stepladder, and the switch to the breaker that powers the detectors.

Having then duly silenced my foe, I was eventually able to snatch a coveted hour or two of sleep.

My family slept through it all.

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