Freakout

Flashback to eight months ago where the apartment complex across the street caught on fire. Hubby and I lived on the top floor for 5 years. We loved that small apartment, it really had a great flow to it. So when we married, got pregnant, we knew that the one bedroom apartment wasn't going to be big enough. Fate interviended. Just before the due date of kiddo, the apartment across the street became available.

Keep in mind in this area there are many late 1800/early 1900's buildings. The one we are currently living in was built in the early 1900's but still has a Victorian flare to it. The apartment across the street used to be the town school back in the 1800's, then a ballroom, etc etc.

In essence, ALL these buildings are tinderboxes. I have never feared the smell of burning wood until I moved from Chicago to Rhode Island. In the wintertime, I am on constant freakout alert for fires. It is not uncommon to see home and apartment fires on the news.

And that's what happened when we were living across the street. It was pretty epic, luckily hubby and I were home playing warcraft when he smelled something burning like incense. After about a minute or two, it got REALLY strong and he went out into the hall. BAM! Smoke everywhere. We rushed down the stairs and saw a fire in the hallway leading down to the basement. Pounded on all the doors and shouting "FIRE!" and raced back upstairs to grab the cat (me) and a computer tower (rolls eyes at Hubby).  Getting things outside and people out of the complex, I ran back in and got ahold of the fire extinguisher. By this time the small fire grew about a foot and I popped the safety off the extinguisher and and blasted the thing. I should have held my breath, because I was inhaling all the smoke.  Turns out, it was arson. Freak out more? Yes, yes I did. To know that someone lit a fire while people were in the building, that's fracking murder dip shift. I never did find out who had done it, but I pray to God that they get thrown in a pit of lava.

Anyways, that building (I loved it so much for its history and charm!) had another incident eight months back. This time... worse. By this time we were already in our 'new' apartment and it's literally across the street of our old place.  Hubby was going upstairs to take a nap and I was raiding in Warcraft when suddenly the house alarm from across the street in our old apartment started to ring.  Huge black plumes of smoke stared to pour out the front door as people raced out. Hubby woke up immediately and dialed 9-1-1 as I yelled, "OMG FIRE! FIRE FIRE FIRE in the basement!" I could see yellow/red/orange fire in the window behind the glass.

We were blessed by God that we weren't in that building when it happened because eight months later, it is still uninhabitable. That could have been us, out on the street with a toddler and family cat in tow.  We would have been screwed. So, to say that I think about fires and it's damage, yes I do. I freak out every time I smell burning wood of campfires or cigarette smoke from the neighbors downstairs.  That is one out of the two things I hate about New England: wood burning fires for winter, everyone has them (not like Illinois where all you have is natural gas for heat). The other, is drivers. No one knows the rules of the road, and I've gotten hit in a car accident 2+ times since moving out here. Ug. I can talk about that later.

But, today the apartment building on the side of us had a fire alarm going off, and I was on high alert. Called the fire department and it turns out someone burnt something in their oven. Thank God for small miracles.

I want a home built out of stone. I'm serious. I loved the idea of getting a house to rehab that was old and needed some TLC, but now.. now I'm just worn out with potential fire hazards. I don't even cook in our oven in the kitchen because I don't want the uber super sensitive alarms to go off in our place. 

/facepalm. We need to get out of here and into our own place. I'm snapping like a twig, my sanity is brittle.
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