BEEP

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My rental house is tiny, but it has three bedrooms – two of them in the front of the house on either side of a short hallway with a bathroom. Well, wait . . . hallway? I don’t think you can even call it that. I mean, they all kind of feel like they’re on top of each other up there.

So, when I heard the BEEP of a smoke detector coming from that direction the other morning, I didn’t know which of the three devices living in that part of the house needed its battery replaced. And I didn’t think about it again until around dinnertime when I heard a second BEEP while I was washing dishes – and immediately forgot about it again.

It wasn’t until 4am – 4am, people! – when the BEEPing roused me to a solidly awakened state that I remembered that unfinished chore. Dang. The smoke detector. I need to do that in the morning.

But apparently, in the morning was now not soon enough. The BEEPs started coming in every sixty seconds or so for the next hour. Insistent. BEEP. Unrelenting. BEEP. Downright rude, this thing was! I hear you! I silently yelled back. I’m not getting out of my bed at 4am to deal with your needy self! Just calm down until morning! The device apparently caught my tone because the noise ceased. Half an hour later, sleep eventually started to overtake me, and then . . . BEEP.

Grrrrr . . .

After another hour or so, I woke up to hear the cantankerous thing demanding my attention once more. So I grudgingly showered, dressed, and went to the front of the house to see which room needed my services before I drug the ladder out of the garage. And, of course . . . silence. I examined all three detectors and saw nothing to indicate which one needed a battery replaced. I mean, shouldn’t there be a visual signal to go with the auditory one? Like, a Low Battery Warning Light or something? No light. No sound. I stood there for a good seven or eight minutes, listening.

Whatever. It’s time for church. I’ll work on it when I get home. So, I put on my shoes, grabbed my purse, opened the door to the garage, and . . .

BEEP.

Oh, for Crying. Out. LOUD!!

Y’all, I’m a reasonably intelligent human being, but I willingly own up to my ignorance regarding machines. I assume that a handyman-type person could explain to me the seemingly random and unhelpful pattern of that beeping. They could probably also tell me why there’s no warning light on there like I needed. Just because it seems illogical to me doesn’t mean there isn’t a good reason for it.

This is a principle I’m trying to carry into every aspect of my life.  There are so many things I just don’t get. I don’t get medical billing and insurance. I don’t get the never-ending construction on 1604 and I-10. I don’t get why we can’t have a legitimately neutral news channel on TV anywhere. I don’t get why eggs suddenly cost so much. But I don’t have to get it. I’m letting go of my need to explain the inexplicable. Life just doesn’t always make sense in our limited human understanding.

Nevertheless. A Low Battery Warning Light. Somebody PLEASE make it happen.

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