music: the clicking of keys and the drivel of coworkers
reading: wikipedia, imdb, anything i can get my hands on

the fire alarm in my building goes off a lot.

a lot. seven times at least (that I've been home, and I'm never home) in the last three weeks or so. the fire alarm terrifies me.

maybe I subconsciously remember the Survive Alive House when we were in elementary school, when I had fake smoke billowing at me, alarms going off, having to crawl down stairs headfirst to reach 'safety' in the gym area outside the 'house'. I sobbed and sobbed. I hated it. either way, the fire alarm (any fire alarm) instills immediate Panic deep in my chest, underneath my ribs. it hides behind my sternum, along with its friends Fear, Dread, and Instant Maternal Instinct, until the alarm goes off.

I used to run, practically flailing, through the hallways of my apartment building to the safety of the woods outside. Regardless of the time, the weather conditions, or the brief but always present flicker of doubt I would proceed to run outside of the building, and stand alone until the firefighters came and shut off the alarm.

last night and this morning (at times that could be categorized as 'very late' and 'very early'), the alarms went off. Flicker of Doubt punched Dread in the face and announced that we were staying in the apartment, fire or no fire. When Panic asked what we would do should there prove to really be a fire, Flicker of Doubt crotch-punched her and told her that all of us (and Pancake and Moosie, too) would jump/attempt to climb down the balcony.

Flicker of Doubt won me over with this logic, or lack thereof, and I decided to stay in the apartment through the alarm. I heard the doors closing, as if people were leaving the building (do they know something I don't know?) and proceeded to walk around my apartment, convinced I really did smell smoke this time. Flicker of Doubt told me to shut up and I finally calmed down, laid back in bed, and even closed my eyes while the alarm proceeded to blare.

I wasn't prepared for the firefighters.

the first thing I heard were their boots, tromping directly above my head in the attic. then it was an onslaught - boots in the hallway, boots outside, more boots in the attic, all of them tromping around. this scared me to no end, and instead of staying in between the nice warm covers, burrowed down deeply, I got very scared.

the tromping boots sent me into the bathroom, behind a wall, so they wouldn't find me. I was too embarrassed that I hadn't actually left while the potential fire potentially raged on, potentially destroying the building below me while I potentially blissfully slept. I was ashamed and a little frightened, afraid they'd yell at me for being there and potentially ship me off on a traincar bound for Majdanek or Bergen-Belsen. I cowered there until the alarm went off and I heard the two firetruck engines roaring down the street.

this morning was a repeat performance. I was digging through my closet prior to work when I heard it, again. Flicker of Doubt punched me again and I stayed, this time standing borderline inside the closet. I heard the tromping of boots and again it was terrifying, and Anne Frank-like I stood very still, daring not to move.

when they left and the engines again chugged down the hill, I took a deep breath and began dressing for work, convinced that I was safe again.