I woke up late today.  Not so late that I had to throw on whatever clothing I could snatch from the floor of my bedroom before quickly running out of the house sans coffee and lunch-box.  No, I was only as late as required me to dry shampoo my hair, miss a spot shaving my legs, throw random things into a lunchbox, and wait to check my email until I got to work.   Everything that had to be done was done, but luxuries (like cut fruit in my lunchbox and fully shaved legs) were foregone.  This is not an abnormal occurrence for me.  Despite setting no fewer than 15 alarms every night--no, seriously, 15--I inevitably ignore all but the final 3 alarms that go off in the morning.  My rejection of all things alarm is usually a result of a late night, but sometimes it's just a result of my being the very opposite of a morning person, whatever you'd call that.*

I also sleep incredibly deeply.  I'd say I sleep "like the dead" but apparently I breath very heavily and dead people don't breath.  Just ask my sister who, when we share a bed, periodically violently throws her fist in my generally direction, throughout the night with a frustrated but sleepy "you're breathing too loud!"  The frequency of this statement is only surpassed by "Stop pulling my covers!"

So this combination of factors, my late night, heavy sleeping, delayed rising, all culminated into one highly perplexing moment this morning.  I stepped out my front door, took a right at the bottom of the stairs, walked to the corner, where I waited for the little white man-light to show up indicating that I could cross the street.  All very typical of my day, though slightly more rushed and anxiety-ridden, given my crunched schedule.  It was then, however, that my day took a plunge into the weird. You see, just as I stepped up from the one-way street I had just crossed, and onto the curb distanced no further than 20 yards from my apartment, something caught my attention to the right.  Something looked out of place.

There sat a dilapidated car with it's entire hood peeling back from the passenger side to the driver's side.  I was running late, and didn't have time for further inspection, so on I went with my day, wondering for the next 7 hours what that very bad looking car was doing in the middle of the road.  Shouldn't they have towed that to a repair shop or something?  Around mid-day I decided that I needed more information and that on the way home today, I would stop and take a closer look.  At this point I was feeling like Nancy Drew in her reincarnated and slightly less appealing form.

So, as planned, I took a closer look at the poor car on the way home.  There were people around, so I had to be sneaky. No one wants to be known as the nosy girl.  Whoever the car belonged to probably lived nearby and I didn't want to be that girl. So I was sneaky, looking over both shoulders I checked the area for pedestrians.  Coast was clear.  I walked nonchalantly past the car, taking in all of the visuals I could.  Melted.  Missing tire.  Black soot below the car.  Looks like it caught on fire.  No way. This couldn't have caught fire right here in the street.  Not a chance. Further data was necessary to verify this supposition, so I, again, looked around and took a U-ey.  This time I caught the missing puzzle piece clue...the back bumper of the car in front of the poor car was melted!  That could only mean one thing, the car caught fire parked on the street.  The street right outside my window.  

I know the car wasn't all melty the day before which means that not only did the car catch fire while parked on the street, but it caught fire overnight.  That means it happened while I was sleeping.  I somehow managed to sleep through what looked like a very large car fire.  The sounds of the car itself, the light it must have given off while burning, the smells of the car parts burning, the sirens of the emergency response vehicles!  None of those woke me up.  I slept through it all!

Terrifying!  I am officially a danger to myself.  Unable to self-protect by responding appropriately to environmental ques.  Like a zoo animal who no longer acknowledges the tapping of slimy, germ-infected, little fingers on her glass cage.  I've said it once and I'll say it again:  I am not an adult. Usually I perceive that as a good thing, but what I learned today is that while adults may be more boring than me, they are probably a lot safer.

Keep on thinking,
Josie

*I don't believe that just because I'm not a morning person I'm a night owl.  There's no way that those are mutually exclusive.  Nope.  That's why I assume, somewhere out there, there are words to describe the opposite of "morning person"  and "night owl" that are not "night owl" and "morning person".  How about just, person who really likes sleep regardless of  the time of day. That would be me.