You know how there are funny things that we say that don't really make sense, it's just something to say?

For example: someone says, "Where is Larissa?" I say, "Oh, she died in a fire."

Sometimes I get really funny looks like, "Wait, really? What?" And then they catch on to what I've just said, and they roll their eyes and get back to inquiring the location of another person.

I thought this was a funny circumstance... Until last night.

Last night, I had a rough time sleeping. I was upset because I was having an allergy/asthma attack. I had been so careful and not touched the cats at all, but I figured I must have cat hair somewhere on my shirt or something. So, I changed my shirt and when that didn't help, went downstairs to get a drink of water and just breathe since I was awake anyway.

I noticed that it was easier to breathe downstairs in the frigid air of the house. I had left the space heater in my room on during the night because I was so cold, but I decided I would turn it off and bundle up and open the door a crack so I could get some cold air blowing on my face so I could breathe.

I went upstairs and went to turn off the heater, when I noticed a strange red glow coming from an outlet next to my bed. I couldn't figure out what it was, but when I turned off the heater the glow disappeared, too.

Not thinking anything of it, I went back to bed.

When I woke up (for real), I happened to glance over at the outlet that had been glowing.

It was black, brown, and melted.

Yup. There was a fire in my outlet last night.

I had an asthma attack from the smoke. The smoke left a lovely stain reaching up about a foot on the wall.

My parents said it was a good thing it happened while we were still here and not while we're gone on vacation.

True story.

So. Dying in a fire isn't funny anymore. That's all.

Signing out.
Me.