But then I went to the gym.
And fell down an entire flight of stairs.
Follow that by coming home to discover not one, but two pimples for no reason.
And then our beloved Red Sox lost last night. An epic loss after a small lead all night. Their last chance. It was disappointing, but if my newest obsession, Friday Night Lights, has taught me anything it is that it is just a game and we can come back again next year.
I couldn't fall asleep due to some hip pain from my earlier run at the gym.
I finally fell out at about 11...
Only to be woken by the fire alarm blaring at 11:45.
My heart pounding and scared out of my skin, I shouted to Mr. G, who in his regular fashion just shouted "what? what do you want!?" in the middle of the blaring noise. We ran downstairs to the alarm that was going off. And this was no "change your battery" alarm that tends to only go off at night. This was an all out fire alarm. We ran downstairs expecting to see our little living room engulfed in flames.
But there was no smoke, no fire.
Mr. G spent a good 4 minutes trying to get the alarm to stop. Wires were pulled, batteries removed. Hearts were pounding. We managed to get back up stairs and safe in our beds after getting the noise to stop and our blood pressures to return somewhat back to normal.
BUT THEN, I though, "what the hell caused the alarm to go off?!"
It must not have been the fire alarm, but instead the carbon monoxide alarm!
I ran downstairs to see if our fire alarm even tested for CM. It did. Oh god. We were going to die. I just knew it. I ran and opened all the doors and windows in the house and turned on the fans. And then went and took a closer look at the alarm. "For a carbon monoxide alarm, you will hear 4 short beeps. For a fire alarm, you will hear 3 long beeps." Oh phew, we had heard a fire alarm. Well, no harm in sleeping with all the doors and windows open just in case...
So I headed back to bed for the 3rd time, still pondering what had made the alarm go off.
And then I remembered what I had done all afternoon: I read ghost stories. And of course at that point, I couldn't stop thinking about ghosts.
Of which I don't believe in. Except that Paranormal Activity was so scary and so real.
So I stayed up for the majority of the night keeping an eye out and an ear out for any more ghost activity.
My alarm went off bright and early this morning (as fucking usual) and I rolled out of bed, surprised to see that at some point in the night I must have been brave enough to have turned off the flashlight that I was keeping next to my bed to see for myself the next Blair Witch in action. (Either that or the witchy ghost bitch turned it off herself!)
I am exhausted.