We have a smoke detector that’s beeping, telling us the battery needs to be replaced. The problem is, we can’t find it. We’ve put ladders up on various parts of the house, and it always sounds like its coming from the opposite direction. It started up a few weeks ago. It would beep for five minutes or so, then stop before I could find where it was. Then it was 10 minutes, then 30 minues, then 60 minutes, then an hour or two. Now it’s going off most of the time - I say most, because every now and then it will stop for like twenty minutes or so, then start up again. It used to be just a minor nuisance, now it’s starting to piss me off.

The other day I was in my bathroom and it started up again. It sounded lifke it was coming from my bathroom ceiling, although slightly muffled. I go out into the hallway and drag a step-ladder out and I listen. And listen. And listen some more. I check the smoke detector in the hall - it’s not that one, the test is pretty loud. I check the carbon monoxide detector only to find the packet that powers it is empty. So it’s never worked since we got here. Not exactly comforting, but where on earth would carbon monoxide come from, anyways?

Today Tracey and I went on a mission. The smoke detector was beeping away so we dragged out both the step ladder and big extension ladder and started rigorous testing - you know, going into bedrooms and closing the door to see if we could isolate it. No luck. All the smoke detectors in the house are all functional. I go up into the attic and can’t hear a thing - besides, what would a smoke detector be doing up in an attic, anyways? I’ve never heard of such a thing. I come down from the attic and hear it beeping away. This is really getting on my nerves. And then I find out that my work laptop has died. Now I’m more than annoyed. Then I realize that our primary car’s registration runs out as of Monday and we haven’t heard anything from Arizona DMV. Can you say, “Hemingway Daiquiri”?

Thing is, I can stand in my bathroom and hear the smoke detector beeping more clearly there than any other place in the house. So now I’m thinking that the smoke detector must be up in the attic right above my bathroom, but buried under four feet of foam insulation. That would explain why I couldn’t hear it up in the attic - that foam layer is pretty thick. Which means, tomorrow I’m heading up to the attic armed with rubber gloves, face mask, hammer, and broom to try and find a recalcitrant smoke detector. I can think of better ways to spend a weekend day. Of course, the alternative is to just let the damned thing beep away and keep my bathroom door closed all the time, but then I risk needing to use the bathroom and walking in on my sister-in-law who shares my bathroom with me when she’s staying here with us. Or, even worse, vice-versa.

…which then would mean I’d need to get an “Occupied” sign and hang it outside the door when the bathroom is being used. There oughta be some place in one’s house where someone can get a little privacy.

Of course, the true nightmare scenario is going up to the attic, pounding the hammer until Tracey tells me I got to the right place, brushing four feet of foam insulation aside and finding… nothing. At that point, I will have run out of ideas where the damned smoke detector is. It’s not a thought I prefer to contemplate at this time.

This is one of those times when I wish I was renting; then I could at least just call the main office and have them deal with it.