My life is full of beeps.
The toaster beeps, starting and finishing;
the microwave beeps;
the new dryer has a honking grating beep when done;
my phone beeps–even in the middle of the night, warning me to look out for a bad person driving a whatever (Excuse me, I was asleep, not on the freeway!);
the fridge that came with the house is grand, but it too beeps if I leave the door open too long;
our new van has all manner of beeps–the seat belt alert, the front and back warning (You are getting closer, closer, TOO CLOSE!); and even though a car is not in the lane beside, it seems to know that the car beyond is considering speeding up, so BEEP, don’t make a move!
Our toothbrushes, razors, and other little rechargeable do-dads beep when getting low on battery and when charging is complete, and
with all the troubles, I have come to feel like the whole world is getting ready to give one massive beep.
Under my covers I go.