Well, I just about gave myself a heart attack. I was sitting here in my classroom as my class napped, and I was pondering what to do with the squash I had roasted before leaving the house this morning. Suddenly: PANIC! "Did I leave the squash cooking when I left the house? I don't recall turning off the oven!" Just as I was getting ready to leave the house today a heavily accented someone came to the door inquiring after our coconuts (these people come by every so often and ask if they can have the coconuts off our trees in the backyard. They do the work of getting them down, and we let them have them. Not like we use them anyway). Had I forgotten about the squash in my struggle to understand this woman on my doorstep? My mind was filled with visions of flames leaping from the oven and our sprinkler system dousing the house and ruining all the furniture. I imagined arriving home to a charred, smoke-filled kitchen. I tried to imagine how I would tell my parents when they got home from their trip to find the their home in ruin. What could I do?! I am at work. Even if I were to go home, it would take me another 30 minutes to get there. At this point my mind began to head back into sane territory and I realized that I needed to call my parents so they could call our neighbors (I don't know their number) who have a key to the house to go check for me. I waited anxiously to hear back the news that my parents were going to kill me, bring me back to life, kick me out of the house, and kill me again. I waited for what seemed like 45 minutes (I think it was probably closer to 5) and finally heard that, no I had not left the oven on and that our neighbor was kindly putting the squash in the fridge for me (not sure if I left it in the oven or on the counter, but either way it was very nice of her to help out).
I feel like a total moron! Granted, not as much of a moron as I would feel if I actually HAD left the oven on, but still...how embarrassing! Sigh...at least I have ginger cookies.