to my dorm after a long GNED class, looking forward to my warm bed, looking forward to dry-ness, to reading, to peace. I'm passing the dorm diagonal from ours and see a curly head yelling out the laundry room door. Phoebe? She's yelling something at Kat, who is about a hundred feet in front of me.
"Just come in here, you can't go in the dorm."
Wait, what's happening?!
"The fire alarm is going off."
Of course, my first instinct is not fear over the fact there may be a legitamate threat to the safety and integrity of the building, but rather frustration that I cannot be in comfort. We all gather in the laundry room, sighing and making known our complaints. Phoebe crawls into the dryer. I play solitaire. We're all a little miffed. We wanted naps! Warmth! Food!
We get the nod that we can go back into our dorms, but the fire alarms are still going off--the key to turn it off is broken. So now i'm sitting in my warmth and comfort with food, along with a loud, piercing, shrill beep. My headphones are securely in my hears along with some Jesus music so I don't go crazy.
And it's raining outside.
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