Rooned My Favorite Plate
Today I wandered out of bed and went into the kitchen to make some coffay. But the only milk I had in the fridge was three days past the expiration date. I'll go one day over cutoff. Maybe two. But three days is where it gets dangerous. So I stared around and thought about whether I should go outside and actually get more milk (1/2 block walk) or just make tea. I decided to screw going out and filled my whistling tea pot with water, cleared off a burner on the stove, put the pot on, and turned on the burner. My kitchen is really pretty small so I put stuff all over my stove when things get messy. My cutting board, plates, glasses, whatever.. it all sits on my stove cause I don't use it that much.
Anyway, I go back to my computer and to do whatever. I'm not sure how much time went past but all of a sudden I realized it seemed like my tea pot should have been whistling already. But I figured that I put alot of water in or something and spaced out again. Typey typey on the computer. Lookee lookie at this and that. La la la whatever whatever and then..... I smell smoke. I get up and run to the kitchen and see my favorite plate on the stove all smoking and the teapot all cool. I realized I accidentally turned on the burner under the plate that was on the stove- instead of the teapot burner.
I shut it off and grab an oven mitt and try to take the plate off the burner but it breaks into three pieces and then it really starts smoking big time and my smoke alarm goes off. I yank the alarm off the wall and turn it around and around in my hands trying to figure out how to turn the frickin superloud beepy thing off. Uch instant headache! Do they have to make those things so frickin loud? I finally twist it open and take out the battery. And go back to the kitchen to mourn my killed plate.
The thing that upset me most (besides the fact that I almost burnt down my whole apartment) was it was my favorite plate. It was the big plate that I dump my chinese food on. Or that I like to eat baked potatoes with peas and ketchup off of. It was big and nice. I've had the plate for years and years and we've gone from apartment to apartment together. Him wrapped up in newspaper or in a t-shirt or something. Part of my home. Now he's all rooned. (see?)
Serves me right for being so lazy I can't even walk a half a block to get some friggin milk and settling for stupid lame-o tea.