I almost started a fire tonight.
Twice.
I shouldn't be allowed to own a home really. I think I'm just overwhelmed and overtired and I wasn't thinking beyond the current moment or the current breath in my nostril.
I wanted to cook some chicken for the week using the leftover already-heated from dinner hot coals from the grills. When I noticed that the coals had almost totally burned down I decided to add some charcoal. This would never work, I realize now, but I had already placed the chicken on the grill. Then I realized that the ash bin was was full and I needed to empty it.
Here is where is all goes terrbly horribly southward: I emptied hot ashes into a plastic bag. Not good .... Start shaking your head and tsk-tsk'ing now.
Immediately, the bag began to melt and ashes began flowing onto the deck from a thousand holes in my bag. To further emphasize how totally far out of my mind I am, I was more concerned about cleaning up the mess than the hot ashes now resting on my wooden deck. Hot red-speckled ashes on my deck made of wood.
It was at this point that Marc saved me from myself and helped me hose off the deck, which was a brilliant idea. Water to cool off the ashes, and a hard-nozzle-spray to shoot them off the deck into the back yard.
While I cleaned off the deck I confessed that I had actually considered throwing a few large pieces of charcoal over the fence into the woods. Thank holy jebus, my brain worked fast enough to remind me that hot pieces of charcoal PLUS dense forest = JAIL TIME FOR STARTING A FOREST FIRE? As I confessed, Marc just started at my, so overcome by my temporary stupidity that he was stunned to silence.
With a clean deck behind me I decided to just cook the chicken on the stove so I seasoned it up and dumped it into a big pan. I turned to do some dishes and then got distracted by one of the five thousand chores I have to do like before last week, I ran upstairs to get something and the next thing I knew, I was standing in the bathroom when Marc walked in and asked me if I intended to leave the stove on high sizzling the chicken into meaty little hockey pucks?
Oh right.... the stove..... !
Dammit!
Where is my brain tonight?
I am used to being stressed and overwhelmed and still having to use my brain for basic functioning but this sort of forgetfulness is a little beyond my usual.
I told Marc to watch out for me tonight.
I feel sorry for people who live nearby, I'm about as volatile as the Kardashians.
