I want a mulligan

Any day that starts with the phrase "I gave my cat a pill" is doomed from the outset. Now, I succeeded in giving the pill, after two attempts, and the discovery that my little cat can morph into a strange being made entirely of spring steel, 16 elbows, and an air horn. No blood transfusions necessary. Said cat was getting this pill (a tranquilizer) because he becomes overwrought when his happy home is invaded by strange humans with big clompy feet making loud and strange noises, and yes, the contractors were coming. So Kitty floated away on a happy pink cloud of chemicals, I showed the guys where the problem was, signed away a big chunk of cash, and left for work. A few hours after I get to work, I get a call from the contractors. No, they hadn't broken my house (big relief). However, they discovered my old, crochety, idiosyncratic house had done it again and they COULDN'T fix the problem, not without completely shredding my living room and oh yes, more money. So, another fixit job gets shoved to the "After I Rob Several Banks" list. Then, when I am going home, I see a tree on fire. What was particularly remarkable about this was it was on fire in a complete downpour--a pretty neat trick, I thought. Apparently a (wet) branch was bridging two wires just enough to allow a current to dry and incinerate said branch. Given the soggy state of the world right then I did not classify it as an emergency, but thought the local fire department might be interested. Like a Good Citizen, I called the non-emergency number .... only to find that they WANTED me to call 911. Someone should tell these guys they are wasting a lot of money on PSAs that sternly warn you to only call 911 for *real* emergencies, like severed limbs. So, now I am going to pull the covers over my head and pretend today never happened.