Oh, my God. I am the world’s biggest moron. Seriously, you guys.

I woke up to the sounds of my fire alarm at 5am this morning. Panicked, I jumped out of bed to see what was going on. I saw blurry orange flames coming out of my wall heater. I ran outside and up to my landlord to ask him for help, but no one answered the door. I then ran back into my apartment to grab my glasses, my cell phone, and my bathrobe (it was quite cold, you see). I called 911 and got the fire department to come. After I hung up the phone, my brain started to clear a little bit from PANIC mode. I had an idea. A neighbor, alerted by my running around and PANIC came out of his apartment. I asked him if his heater had turned on yet this season. He said he turned it on once so far. I asked him if flames shot out of it. No. Okay, maybe I had a legitimate concern. Then, however, it dawned on me that I could just turn the damned thing off. So I did. And then the firemen came. A lot of them. There were two trucks. Even after I told them that this was all because I’m so incredibly dim, they, you know, had to do their job and check it out, so I had six firemen in my apartment, looking at my now turned off heater. I’m such a moron. Who needs to vacuum the dust from her heater.

I think this qualifies as a good story, Sarah. It’s now 6am and I want to go back to bed. Let’s see if the adrenaline has worn off yet.

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