My first fire

Over the weekend I had some time to finally get some unpacking done. I have been struggling to figure out where I want things to go and how to make things functional while still looking good. Which is hard when everything you own seems so ghetto. I'd like my couch a lot more if the pattern wasn't so...ugly. So, I'm unpacking, rearranging, hurting myself and I decide since it's a cold day and I have a stash of firewood in my trunk (for those random beach/river trips) why not get some use out of the fireplace?
I've lived in houses with fireplaces for the last 3 years of my life but I never got into the habit of actually having fires. In my old house, to have a fire you had to crawl into the fireplace to open the flue. Which was no problem when I was living with my ex. He would take care of that. When living alone, I couldn't muster up the courage to crawl in there. I mean, it's dark, and there could be spiders! So, I just never had fires. Until the very last night, when I had to burn  the junk mail that had accumulated in there, and I had A's boyfriend open the flue for that. In my temporary house there was a fireplace but since I was only there a couple months and it was never cold there, I didn't have any fires there either.
I love fires. It's one of my favorite parts of camping. I know some people hate the smell of campfires but I love it. I love the sound of fires, the smell of the smoke, the warmth of the flame. I know campfires, and fires in fireplaces are different, but not much. On a cold winter day, there's really nothing better then sitting in front of a warm fire. It's just that much better when it's inside your own home and you have access to all the modern conveniences in life.
It took me a few trips to get all the firewood in from my car.  I set up a few pieces in the fireplace and stuck some of my to-be-shredded mail in the middle. The flue is easy to open with a pull chain on the outside, below the mantle, and just like that I had a nice fire going. My plan was to start the fire and go back to unpacking what will eventually be my "office", aka the room I keep my computer in. I couldn't tear myself away from the fire though. I kept thinking how awesome it is that I can have a fire whenever I want, in the safety of my own home. So I sat on the couch and caught up on some tv that I had missed and enjoyed the sound of the fire crackling. I kept adding wood, and moving the pieces around with my poker, which is actually just a piece of particle board that fell off of my cheap bookcase. Soon I was sitting on the floor in front of the fire watching the blue flames consume the pieces of my old desk that had to be disassembled to move. I hated that solid wood desk anyway, and I can't lie and say it didn't feel good to burn something my ex had left behind. I think that sounds a bit more sadistic than it felt, but whatever.
I see a fuzzball roll by the wall to the left of the fireplace and it startles me. Ever since I washed that blue blanket, there have been massive fuzzies scaring me all around the house. Then I realized that fuzzball had legs. HOLY CRAP! Another giant spider! Oh, NO! Instinctively I jumped up from the floor and went straight into panic mode. I had to breath and tell myself to take stock of the situation. The spider was gigantic, but not quite as big as the one in the tub had been. Why, WHY were there so many huge spiders in this house that I love? The disgusting thing started moving away from the fire and I knew I had to take action. This one was on the move, which meant I didn't have time to call for help. I grabbed my broom and blindly swung in the general direction of that monster beast. I jumped back to safety before finding out I had missed it entirely. It was hiding behind my bag of to-be-shredded/burned mail. It was so big that even though it was "hiding" against a black bag in a shadow, I could still see it. I screamed at it before bringing the broom down on top of it. Again it got away and now it was running along the baseboard towards the tv. I knew it would get away completely if I didn't hit it this time. I did a little hop and screamed again while smacking the broom down hard, finally nailing the creature. I screamed, again, while jumping back towards the couch. I was shaking, breathing hard. Why couldn't the spiders I encounter here be more average in size? Why did they have to be the size of most domesticated pets? If I had tried to use my bugzooka on this one, I would have been able to feel the resistance of it's massive body, and I just can't handle that. I shakily swept the eight legged dog towards the fire, keeping as much distance as I could. Even dead, with it's legs curled in onto itself, it was still the size of those big brown spiders I usually see outside. I imagined I could hear it sizzle and scream when I swept it into the flames. I sat on the recliner and tried to steady my breathing. So much for enjoying my fire. Now there was a giant spider carcass in there. I couldn't just reach in like before. Maybe...maybe that mutant came in when I opened the flue? I'd been there a week without opening it...maybe it had crawled in from outside...the big tree out front did hang right over the house. The tree spider must have thought it would be safe in the chimney and came down when I opened the flue. It was running away from the fire when I saw it. Oh god, but that must have meant I was close to it for a long time. I was just trying to make myself feel better about it, thinking that this couldn't be normal. Gross....sick, sick, sick. I spider proofed the house damn it!
That was the motivation I needed to get back to unpacking. Only now, I was paranoid about spiders in the house. Reaching into boxes scared me now. Putting something in the dark closet was terrifying. I pushed myself to keep going like I had never seen that spider. I know that I can't let my fear run my life, but it's still hard to push through sometimes. I was moving slow, but I was getting things done. I kept the broom nearby for protection.
It felt good to finally be getting things done in the house, even if it was going slow. I couldn't find all the things I needed to get things like my computer set up, and even though the fire was now tainted, it's warmth kept bringing me back to the living room. Before I knew it, I was fighting off sleep on the couch, and I was down to my last piece of firewood. The large log was barely on fire anymore. I got a cup of water from the kitchen to douse the flames out. The small cup wasn't enough so I grabbed the coffee pot and filled it with water. I slowly, and carefully since there was a spider in there somewhere and for all I knew there could be more, poured the water over the log until it stopped sizzling. I let the last bits of smoke fly up the chimney while I brushed my teeth and put on pajamas. I swept up some bits of ash on the floor, closed the flue, and headed to bed.
I woke up to the sound of a voice outside my door. What was it saying? I could hardly make it out. Was I dreaming? There was a sound that went along with the voice. Had I left the tv on? I pushed my eye mask up and tried to wake up.
Buzz buzz buzz. Voice. Buzz buzz buzz. Voice.
What was happening? I put on my robe and went to check the living room. As soon as I opened the door I realized it was the smoke alarm I was hearing. I jumped into action mode. First I had to shut that noise off. Sure, maybe I should have checked for fire first, but my head was pounding and all I could focus on was making that sound stop. I could now hear the voice clearly, coming from the smoke detector. It was saying "carbon monoxide" between the buzzing sounds. From the hallway where the smoke alarm is I could see smoke coming from the fireplace. That damn log had never gone out completely. I pulled up the white lawn chair that had been left in my closet and pushed the silence button on the smoke detector. "Carbon monoxide" she told me again and again. I pushed the button but she wouldn't shut up. I held the button down, and that made the other smoke detectors go off. The sound was so loud. I thought my brain might explode. Finally, she shut up.
I climbed down from the chair and ran over to the fireplace. I open the flue and then that bitch was yelling at me again. I was suddenly aware of how smokey it was in the house. I climbed back up on the chair and held down the button that made the other alarms go off before shutting them up. Again, I crawled down and tried to figure out what to do. My head was so light. I caught a glimpse of the clock in the kitchen and saw it was 4 in the morning. I ran to the front door and swung it open. The cool air gave me goosebumps immediately and I realized I never closed my robe. Hi neighbors, I'm the girl who doesn't know how to properly put out fires and walks around without pants on. Awesome.
After securely closing my robe, I swung the door back and forth trying to get the smoke to dissipate. The buzzing came back and that damn woman was yelling at me again. I closed the door and crawled back up on that chair. Every time it seemed like that buzzing was louder. Again she shuts up and I know I have to do more. I open a window in the kitchen. It was a lot smokier in the house than I had realized. I ran back into the living room and opened the window there. I swung the front door back and forth again and then I noticed the log was still smoldering. Oh no, sir. You are being put out. I filled up the coffee pot again and poured it all over the log. It sizzled, but still smoked. This was a monster log. I filled up the coffee pot again but the buzzing started before I could make it back to the living room. I felt like a crazy person. The buzzing was killing my head and I couldn't get the smoke alarms to shut up. I screamed at it to stop. I told it I was trying to get the smoke out. She shut up.
I hopped down from the chair and grabbed the broom to wave the smoke away from the smoke detector. It went off immediately. Back up on the chair. More screaming. When I shut her up again I got down and went to find the fan I had yet to put in the basement for storage until summer. I plugged it in and aimed it at the open window, hoping to blow the smoke outside. I went back to fanning the front door and hoped I wouldn't hear that awful buzzing again. Then I remembered the coffee pot full of water in the kitchen. I grabbed it and before pouring it over the log, I used my "poker" to flip the log over hoping maybe if I got the other side wet it would finally go out. It was still smoking, but now the water was coming out onto the tiles in front of the fireplace. I found some napkins to mop up the mess and when it was all cleaned up I sat on the couch to stare at the log that wouldn't stop burning. I had to wait it out. I was delirious. At least the smoke finally started to clear up. I was mad at myself. Mad for not realizing the log was still burning before I went to bed. Mad that I had warmed up the house only to have to cool it down again with freezing temperatures outside. Mad that I had really almost killed myself. Hey, at least I knew the smoke/carbon monoxide detectors worked properly. And thank God for that!
I finally had the smoke mostly cleared out, nearly 30 minutes after waking up in a daze. I grabbed a blanket and laid on the couch to wait for that log to finally go out all the way. It was nice to have a cozy blanket, freshly washed, wrapped around me with the fan going and freezing air flowing in through the open windows. Soon, I was asleep again, having strange dreams about monster dogs and running for my life.
How would you react if you woke up to the same situation? It's easy to say you would know exactly how to handle things, but how clear would your head really be after slowly losing oxygen throuhgout the night? Maybe I should be embarrassed to share this story, but I'm not. It's been a couple days now and I still don't feel completely normal. I've got a kind of nasty cough and I had a massive headache which has now been replaced with a light headed feeling that won't go away. This is my life people. The house still smells like smoke. My coat and scarf, which were left in the living room, reek of smoke so much that no matter where I go I can still smell the smell of fire.
And that's the story of how I almost killed myself this weekend.