There is something in my parents' house that is desperate for attention. Once an hour, every hour, something...somewhere...beeps.
It’s been this way for a while, and for approximately 30 seconds every hour, I’m driven to near madness by it.
I then promptly forget. Fifty-nine and a half minutes of every hour are blissfully beep-free.
Right after college graduation (2 years ago, for those of you keeping track), during my previous period of unemployment (more on that fun lifestyle later, I have a lot to say), I would wake up around noon and get to TV-watching. At 1:02, I would hear a beep, be confused, resolve to remember to go looking for the source at 2:02, then forget.
Until 2:02, of course, when the cycle would start again.
From May until September 2008, when I finally got a job, this happened daily. Hourly. Like clockwork. Shoddy clockwork, it turned out.
When I moved back this past July, I was horrified (momentarily, but repeatedly) to find that the beeping was STILL HAPPENING. Only whatever it is seems to be running slow. In July, it would beep at 16 past the hour; a few weeks ago it started beeping at 17 past.
Over time, I’ve grown more conscious of it, which is the opposite of what I feel should be happening. I think the mystery of it is what’s keeping it in the forefront of my mind. That and having nothing else to focus on (other than my impending pregnancy (see previous post)).
I finally remembered to point The Beeping out to my parents, who never seemed to notice it (something about all of the loud noises they produce when they’re home from work means it’s background noise for a few hours).
One day, my dad and I were standing in the kitchen. I looked at the clock to see something:16. Struck by the realization that I could catch it in the act, I attempted to get my dad’s attention. Unfortunately, I mumble, and he doesn’t seem able to hear whatever frequency my voice is, so it took a little while for me to get the message across.
“The Beeping. It’s about to happen.” Very ominous, I thought.
“What’s that?” He was standing approximately three feet from me. This went on much longer than necessary.
“The Beeping! It happens at 17 after.”
“Oh right, the beeping. Where’d you say it was coming from?”
Aha. That’s the crux of it, isn’t it? The hunt being very sporadic in nature (I tend to get distracted by something shiny after a minute or so), I had never really narrowed it down. If I’m standing in the kitchen, it sounds like it’s coming from the laundry room. If I’m standing in a different area of the kitchen, it sounds like it’s coming from the basement. If I’m in the family room, it sounds like it’s coming from the kitchen.
Dad picked basement, I stayed upstairs. We decided it’s coming from the storage area in the basement. His guess was a smoke detector or something. Maybe The Beep means whatever it is is low on battery. But it’s been beeping for TWO. YEARS. If that beep meant “low battery,” it seems to be confused in addition to very annoying and persistent.
Either way, the short attention span seems to run in the family, since that’s as far as we got. This was several weeks ago, and once an hour, every hour, I’m filled with a lust for mystery, determined to go Sherlock Holmes on The Beeping’s ass.
Then a dog wants to come inside or I see a commercial for something that looks delicious or I have to pee, and the beeping is forgotten. For example, I’m finishing this up at 12 past, and I guarantee by the time 17 comes around, I’ll be making oatmeal.
So in a way I guess I still win. But one day, by some bizarre coincidence, I’ll find a hammer at exactly 16 past the hour. I’ll be positioned at the bottom of the basement stairs. And shit will go down.
It’s been this way for a while, and for approximately 30 seconds every hour, I’m driven to near madness by it.
I then promptly forget. Fifty-nine and a half minutes of every hour are blissfully beep-free.
Right after college graduation (2 years ago, for those of you keeping track), during my previous period of unemployment (more on that fun lifestyle later, I have a lot to say), I would wake up around noon and get to TV-watching. At 1:02, I would hear a beep, be confused, resolve to remember to go looking for the source at 2:02, then forget.
Until 2:02, of course, when the cycle would start again.
From May until September 2008, when I finally got a job, this happened daily. Hourly. Like clockwork. Shoddy clockwork, it turned out.
When I moved back this past July, I was horrified (momentarily, but repeatedly) to find that the beeping was STILL HAPPENING. Only whatever it is seems to be running slow. In July, it would beep at 16 past the hour; a few weeks ago it started beeping at 17 past.
Over time, I’ve grown more conscious of it, which is the opposite of what I feel should be happening. I think the mystery of it is what’s keeping it in the forefront of my mind. That and having nothing else to focus on (other than my impending pregnancy (see previous post)).
I finally remembered to point The Beeping out to my parents, who never seemed to notice it (something about all of the loud noises they produce when they’re home from work means it’s background noise for a few hours).
One day, my dad and I were standing in the kitchen. I looked at the clock to see something:16. Struck by the realization that I could catch it in the act, I attempted to get my dad’s attention. Unfortunately, I mumble, and he doesn’t seem able to hear whatever frequency my voice is, so it took a little while for me to get the message across.
“The Beeping. It’s about to happen.” Very ominous, I thought.
“What’s that?” He was standing approximately three feet from me. This went on much longer than necessary.
“The Beeping! It happens at 17 after.”
“Oh right, the beeping. Where’d you say it was coming from?”
Aha. That’s the crux of it, isn’t it? The hunt being very sporadic in nature (I tend to get distracted by something shiny after a minute or so), I had never really narrowed it down. If I’m standing in the kitchen, it sounds like it’s coming from the laundry room. If I’m standing in a different area of the kitchen, it sounds like it’s coming from the basement. If I’m in the family room, it sounds like it’s coming from the kitchen.
Dad picked basement, I stayed upstairs. We decided it’s coming from the storage area in the basement. His guess was a smoke detector or something. Maybe The Beep means whatever it is is low on battery. But it’s been beeping for TWO. YEARS. If that beep meant “low battery,” it seems to be confused in addition to very annoying and persistent.
Either way, the short attention span seems to run in the family, since that’s as far as we got. This was several weeks ago, and once an hour, every hour, I’m filled with a lust for mystery, determined to go Sherlock Holmes on The Beeping’s ass.
Then a dog wants to come inside or I see a commercial for something that looks delicious or I have to pee, and the beeping is forgotten. For example, I’m finishing this up at 12 past, and I guarantee by the time 17 comes around, I’ll be making oatmeal.
So in a way I guess I still win. But one day, by some bizarre coincidence, I’ll find a hammer at exactly 16 past the hour. I’ll be positioned at the bottom of the basement stairs. And shit will go down.
I think there's a Dalek in your basement. You better call David Tennant to help you find it. And, um, I should be there to help. By proposing to David Tennant.
ReplyDeleteI hope you mean by helping me propose to David Tennant. In which case, deal. Although I've been in my storage space and nothing has threatened to exterminate me.
ReplyDeleteI bet a know what it is. But this is going to scare you. So if you are not in the mood to be scared...stop reading. It is the monitor for the slowly deteriorating but still beating heart of the emergency organ donor your parents keep in the basement. Think like that movie "The Island" only without the ever sexy, Ewan McGregor. In fact, think much much much less sexier than that since your parents are keeping him hidden in the store room next to your basement.
ReplyDelete