I'm really uncertain how I feel about yesterday. I am certain I feel lucky and relieved. Beyond that, I'm unsure.
I was working at home in the afternoon, reading through a book and making handwritten notes as I went along. I felt very sleepy. This is not unusual, as I am the father of a 6-month old, so sleep is more infrequent than it used to be.
However, I was extremely sleepy ... unusually sleepy.
I made a cup of coffee to wake up a bit. It didn't help. As soon as I sat back down to go to work, the sleepiness returned.
Rinse, lather and repeat. More coffee, more sleepiness.
So, I made a third cup of coffee, this time even bigger -- 20oz-- to see if that helped. Further, I ground the coffee fine this time, and I used a lot, so as to make both the taste and caffeine as powerful as possible.
No good. Still sleepy, but evidently still awake enough to notice the rotting smell. Last time I smelled this, I found a dead mouse on the top cellar stair. No mouse this time. I decide to light a Yankee Candle to cover the smell for when my wife comes home, but I get distracted and forget to do so.
In my wingback chair I return to reading-only, as I'm too sleepy to write. I resist the extremely strong urge to take a nap. My wife and baby daughter are coming home soon (I got the afternoon off from pickup duty, so I could do work), and I want to see the big smile our baby girl gets each time she comes home from daycare. No sleep...
The next thing I remember is my wife coming home, yelling across the kitchen, "Oh my God, the whole house smells like gas .... C.B., are you in here??? Open a window or the house is going to blow up!!!"
Immediately, the causal realization came, "Oh...right... I wasn't sleepy, I was slowly being gassed to death by a faulty gas range knob that I hadn't even touched..."
Almost instantly thereafter came the dad-realization: "Jesus Waterboarding Christ! What if my daughter had been home?"
Then, the relieved realization, "I am such a lucky idiot! That could totally have not gone my way. A dead mouse. Really?"
Then, came the odd questions, such as "Why does the mercaptan in propane smell more like dead mice than rotten eggs?" and "If propane producers can add a noxious-smelling agent like mercaptan in order to warn of leaks, could they not instead add a pleasing smell that one would not find inside a house -- maybe new car smell?
I'm sure the folks at Yankee Candle could come up with that scent for them.