The Roof is on Fire!

I apologize profusely for the delay, my house almost burned down.
On Saturday Michael and I alternated binge drinking and sex. By the time he left I was toasted. Suddenly, I had the taste for stir fried vegetables(oily blackened carrots and broccoli of all things, what am I PREGNANT?). I placed a skillet with a drizzle of olive oil on the stove. Ok, more than a "drizzle", closer to 15 tablespoons. I pushed the knob to high with the intention of returning to my vegetables in a couple of minutes. I plopped down on the living room couch and hit play - Man on the Roof was my selection for the night.
Fatigue from a busy day and 3 vodka cocktails swiftly set in, 30 seconds later I was out like a light. I awakened to my sister screaming, "TIFF, THE FUCKING HOUSE IS ON FIRE!!!" The smell of smoke permeated my nostrils and deposited a thick layer of soot - then I noticed blaring fire alarm. My house was burning while I slept absentmindedly. Was this a dream? Please God let this be a dream.
"If wishes were horses then beggars would ride."
My reflexes kicked in. I found my way to the kitchen through the dense smoke and there I confronted the angry flames spewing from the cupboards above the microwave and licking the ceiling. I ran to the laundry room to procure a large bucket which I never found. Grabbing the nearest midsized container in desperation - a homedics foot spa - I filled it with water from the laundry room basin. Making a mad dash to the kitchen I threw the contents on the fire, the defeated flames emitted a loud TSSSSSST. I rushed back to the laundry room to continue my fight against the diminishing inferno. After 9 trips back and forth I won the battle, the fire was out! My victory dance was cut short by my asthmatic reaction to the smoke. I joined my sister outside reassuring her that the fire was out "but fluffy's still inside!" she said. We took one look at each other, held our breaths and sprinted back in for the family cat. A frightened fluffy slowly crawled out from under the couch where he was hiding when we called for him. Once again we found our way outside where we called the fire department to make sure the fire was out; they informed me that I could have cause the fire to spread if a drop oil had been in the pan.

To cut an insanely long story short, we're moving into temporary housing for a month or two. And since our house isn't "livable" according to the insurance agents, here we are in a hotel awaiting information on furnished apartments.

Thank you for saving my house