I was laying in bed this morning trying to get focused on the day and I caught myself watching the ceiling fan that’s just above it. It shakes like crazy. And it made me realize I have another completely irrational fear: a ceiling fan falling on me while I sleep.
I used to watch the one at my last apartment, but it seemed pretty steady. It just made some random clicking noises now and again that were enough to just make me question it’s stability a bit.
When I used to visit my grandma’s, my brother and I used to put cup holders on the top of the ceiling fan and turn it on. The crocheted cup holders went flying, sometimes hitting lamp shades and sometimes knocking down one of the five thousand picture frames scattered around my grandma’s living room. I’m not sure how we explained the cup holders in various places where they shouldn’t be, but we never really got in trouble for it. Her ceiling fan, however, shook like a banshee, too.
Sometimes, when we’d stay the night, one of us would have to sleep on the couch. The couch, I was pretty sure at the time, was just on the outside of the ceiling fan’s circumference, which clearly meant I was safe from dying a tragic ceiling fan death in the middle of the night.
Here at our new place? I think that very fan might just be the death of me.