Blame It On the Stress

So, this happened...

Alright, so we faced the day of briefings and too much information and meeting lots of nice new people.  We felt pretty good.  I felt so good that I made my first supper in Indonesia.  I asked the housekeeper to chop the onion, and then I threw the beef and the tomatoes in the pot myself and I fixed an old standard - pasta with bolognese sauce.  I got the meat sauce all prepared, and then turned the heat up on the burner to high.  This way, I could turn off the heat when I left the apartment in a few minutes.  The sauce would continue to cook for quite a while, but I wouldn't be leaving the apartment with the stove on.

And so, I left the apartment.  With the stove on.  And not only on, but on high.

The girls and I went down to the pool, where we chatted with the neighbors and burned off some steam.  They were stuck at the embassy for hours today, waiting at Daddy's desk while I sat in briefings and he manned the visa window.  They needed something kid-friendly.  I expected Dave to arrive home from work soon, and then planned to escape back to the kitchen to boil the water for the pasta.  Dinner would be ready on time.

Dave never showed up, which raised my stress level.  We were leaving the pool at about the time we usually eat, and I hadn't begun to heat the water for the noodles yet.  We would be eating late, which throws the entire evening off.  And where was Dave?

We opened the door to the apartment, and it was full of smoke.  No joke - I have never seen this much smoke.  Streams of smoke gushed over the sides of the pot.  This was a mess on so many levels.  So many.

Level #1 - This is only temporary housing, so we don't have a normal household full of things.  That is to say, there is not one fan in our apartment.

Level #2 - This is super-secure housing.  Also, this is a super-humid environment.  Our apartment is not designed for us to open our windows and let air through.

Level #3 - We are still new to this super-secure housing.  I don't even know where the keys are to half of the doors which do open.

So, we scrambled to open the sliding glass door in the living room.  It opens directly to a courtyard.  I could not get the screen door open for the girls to set outside in the clean air, but I could get the other doors open.  They sat next to the door, suddenly very aware of the smoke and taking frantic and overly dramatic gulps of the air on the other side of that screen.

I closed the bedroom doors.  Each of them has a humidifier and an air purifier, so thankfully I knew we could sleep safely tonight.

Level #4 - When in a crisis, I operate well.  I switch into problem-solving mode and fix as many problems as I can.  It wasn't until I had opened the two unlocked windows and turned on the bathroom and kitchen fans that I realized the next level of mess.  The apartment has smoke alarms and fire safety sprinklers.  Should those go on, my most valued and most comforting possessions would be soaked.  As would all of the embassy's furniture.  I would have to face the building staff this evening, and then the embassy staff tomorrow with a very embarassed look on my face.  And without my favorite pillow.

Thankfully, the smoke detectors failed this evening.  No one will learn about my mistake, unless they sniff the air in our living room.  With the crisis averted, the windows and doors are once again closed to the humid night air.  The smoke is gone, but the scent may linger for quite a while.

On the plus side, we got to take an evening walk to McDonalds.  We learned that their spicy chicken sandwich is actually spicy, and that the french fries come with seasoning salts.  Fun!