death by rice a roni
on tuesday night at 3 am, however, i was out of milk. so my fabulous special k with strawberries and one packet of splenda that i usually consume had to be replaced by something of a lesser variety.
enter the rice a roni.
i can't flipping stand this stuff. i have like 8 boxes left over from when my ex-boyfriend lived with me and he could stomach it, so we kept it around. apparently, however, i was trashed and it sounded like a good idea. it could have been worse i suppose. i could have tried some heroin, or made a couple babies with some dude sitting next to me at the bar... yeah, it could have been worse. except that it wasn't. it was pretty much up to par with those two things.
so... i get the nasty mass cooking, and set the timer for 20 minutes. 20 minutes... I can stay awake for 20 minutes... no problem. oh but wait, who is that knocking on my door? fuck! why won't they fucking stop knocking on my door! what awful son of a bitch person knocks on my door at 8 am in the morning, and why am I in bed? I thought i was just on the couch...
i stumble to the door. its my landlord. who lives upstairs.
her: "burning. something is burning"
wait for it to register...
me: "OH SHIT!"
i then turn around to see my apartment, which i had been sleeping soundly in 1 minute prior, filled with the most noxious black smoke i have ever seen.
did you know that you can cook rice a roni for 5 hours on med-high heat and it won't set fire! How is that possible??? so, i now have more reason not to eat the shit because something that unnatural cannot possibly be good for you. and its not even rice. its like threads of some rice looking noodle. i am so afraid.
so my apartment, after a few days, still smells like burning. but i now have batteries in my smoke detector.
although, i don't know if that would have woken me up even. because that 20 minute timer sure as hell didn't, and it is loud as fuck.
so, thank you landlord, for being awesome as ever, and not evicting me for said incident. i appreciate that as i was standing at the door in front of you, wearing my clothes from the night before, looking confused as to what you meant by "burning", as billows of smoke made their escape past me and into your face, you chose to crack up at me and the situation. and not to scream. and then you apologized for waking me up as if you hadn't just saved my life. thank you. thank you. thank you.