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Truisms I Didn't Need to Test, Thanks
Feb. 11th, 2007 05:26 amY'know that one about when your house is on fire and you have to decide what to grab on your way out?
Well, apparently for me, it is my wallet, my passport, my birth certificate, and the flash memory card where I back up my fiction.
So okay, clearly I am not On Fire nor did I get back in to find my stuff On Fire. Short version is: about forty minutes ago the alarm went off, which I would have rolled over and ignored at this hour, except that I could smell smoke. And upon a minute of inspection it was not candle smoke or some other kind of innocuous smoke and was making my throat hurt pretty badly. At which point I got my contacts in and my clothes on very fast and went outside, amazingly remembering my grade school fire safety training about getting the temperature of a door with your hand before you open it, lest you get a faceful of fire.
I have no idea where the actual fire was. I think it was down the hall from me or down the hall and a floor up or down, because the other half of the hall -- the elevators are in the centre -- was full of smoke.
The usual smartassery people make about being woken up late/early by the fire alarm gets really annoying when you are worrying about your apartment where you live. Yes, that is some people's coping mechanism. My coping mechanism likes pacing and quiet and sort of wanted to punch theirs in the nads.
They let us back in about five-ten minutes ago, since the fire was out and enough smoke was cleared out to make it manageable. My apartment smells enough like smoke to start the back of my throat going raw again, and the five fire trucks plus command post plus ambulance plus Fire Marshal van have gone home.
I don't think I'm getting back to sleep.
Not recording this for any particular purpose, except that putting things into manageable narrative -- thinking about it in terms of structure, style, pacing, and word choice, how to communicate it to you instead of oh Jesus I don't have fire insurance and my plants my textbooks my books my teddy bear I've had since I was two my computer with my words which is my life -- is also part of my coping mechanism, and I wanted this out of me and away so I don't have to wake someone up with a weepy adrenaline comedown at a way too early hour.
Calmer now. Going to read.
Well, apparently for me, it is my wallet, my passport, my birth certificate, and the flash memory card where I back up my fiction.
So okay, clearly I am not On Fire nor did I get back in to find my stuff On Fire. Short version is: about forty minutes ago the alarm went off, which I would have rolled over and ignored at this hour, except that I could smell smoke. And upon a minute of inspection it was not candle smoke or some other kind of innocuous smoke and was making my throat hurt pretty badly. At which point I got my contacts in and my clothes on very fast and went outside, amazingly remembering my grade school fire safety training about getting the temperature of a door with your hand before you open it, lest you get a faceful of fire.
I have no idea where the actual fire was. I think it was down the hall from me or down the hall and a floor up or down, because the other half of the hall -- the elevators are in the centre -- was full of smoke.
The usual smartassery people make about being woken up late/early by the fire alarm gets really annoying when you are worrying about your apartment where you live. Yes, that is some people's coping mechanism. My coping mechanism likes pacing and quiet and sort of wanted to punch theirs in the nads.
They let us back in about five-ten minutes ago, since the fire was out and enough smoke was cleared out to make it manageable. My apartment smells enough like smoke to start the back of my throat going raw again, and the five fire trucks plus command post plus ambulance plus Fire Marshal van have gone home.
I don't think I'm getting back to sleep.
Not recording this for any particular purpose, except that putting things into manageable narrative -- thinking about it in terms of structure, style, pacing, and word choice, how to communicate it to you instead of oh Jesus I don't have fire insurance and my plants my textbooks my books my teddy bear I've had since I was two my computer with my words which is my life -- is also part of my coping mechanism, and I wanted this out of me and away so I don't have to wake someone up with a weepy adrenaline comedown at a way too early hour.
Calmer now. Going to read.
