So about that last post. Remember when I was talking about the flashing fire alarm and definitely being woken up at 4am even for a false alarm?
Truth be told, I hadn’t yet gone to sleep. It also may have occurred closer to 1 am. Here’s what happened:
12:30-1am: Winding down for bed time. The usual routine. Listening to music with my special personal audio cable, which is basically an earphone for a person with a cochlear implant.
1:05 am: Disconnect my personal audio cable, get up to take out hearing devices and go to sleep.
1:06 am: FIRE ALARM. “WEEEE-OOOOHHH WEEEE-OOOOOH. ‘Can I have you attention please. Can I have your attention please. There has been a fire alarm reported in your building. Please proceed to the nearest exit’.” x 1000000 (Yes, my building’s fire alarm comes with a passive aggressive recording of someone telling us to leave the building in case the sound isn’t already unbearable). The flashing fire alarm goes off. It is blinding. It burns. It is a force of torture. I don’t know if that is a thing, but that is what the flashing was like.
1:07 am: Roommate and I look at each other. Please be joking. Should we ignore it? It’s ALWAYS a fire alarm. Okay, go back to sleep.
1:08 am: What if it’s a real fire? Ugh. Let’s go.
1:25 am: Oh, look at the 15 out of the thousands of people in this huge building that have decided to evacuate. Hello survivors. We are the lucky ones.
1:26 am: AAANNND it’s a false alarm. What a surprise.
1:34 am: Back in the room. NO. Why is the flashing thingy not stopping? IT’S NOT STOPPING. The alarm sound has stopped. The flashing has not stopped. Stage 5 soul crushing sadness from one particularly exhausted apartment mate.
1:46 am: Go back downstairs. There is no one to help us. We must face this torture alone. Go back upstairs. Turn off lights. Can we sleep? No. The flashing is ten thousand times more pronounced in the dark. I get up. I start a mini rave.
1:48 am: The mini rave has horrifyingly become reminiscent of a Halloween horror funhouse. Where is my roommate? Oh she’s over there. Now it’s pitch black. Now she’s over here. Now it’s pitch black. WHAT IF THERE IS SOMEONE ELSE IN HERE TOO? I’m over this. I am SO over this. Why did I watch The Shining a week ago? Jack Nicholson is definitely here.
1:49 am: The flashing stops. Thank goodness. Jack Nicholson, as it turns out, is definitely not here. I will write Stanley Kubrick some hate mail in the morning.
1:50 am: There is no sleep. We are now wide awake.
1:51 am: Girl talk commences.
2:16 am: Exhaustion takes over. Sleep has never felt sweeter.
The cost of safety.