Community Fire Alarms
by
Kait
- 12:01 PM
One aspect I forgot about apartment life is that of fire alarms. More specifically, when one goes off, they all go off. And always at the worst time. It was a Wednesday a few weeks ago that I got into bed around ten and shut off the light, ready to be ushered into a dream-filled sleep. I hadn't even pulled my hand away from the switch when I hear the fire alarm ring throughout the apartment. I throw on a robe and run into my roommate in the hallway, asking if it's going off in the whole building. We go outside to look and, sure enough it was.
But that's when the differences between college apartment fire drills and adult apartment fire drills kicked in. College? Smell for smoke and when none was found, go back inside and remove battery from fire alarm. Adulthood? Work as a team with all tenants to track the source of the problem and remedy it. Now that's all fine and dandy, I love solving mysteries like all Sherlock Holmes' of the world, but let me remind you it was past my bedtime already when the alarm went off and now I'm standing in an atrium with six of my neighbors, dressed in a short robe (I was still decent, don't you worry) with coconut oil moisturizing my face. These poor souls probably thought I was getting paid by BP to produce oil.
We track the source of the ringing down, an uneventful pushed button in the elevator, and I look toward my front door, wanting to dive under the covers, hide my face, and call it a night. Instead, my mother's advice ringing in my ears, I stayed and got to know the neighbors. We talked going-ons in the area, issues in the building, and I got to know the people who I hope will guard my packages. I now know my neighbor's names, as opposed to college when I knew five neighbors total over the span of three years.
Of course, the whole time I was thinking "I should be in bed, I'll regret this tomorrow" but I was proud of myself for being the adult and sticking it out, oily face and all. Conveniently enough, as I hover over the 'publish' button, I can hear another building's fire alarm ringing in the distance.
But that's when the differences between college apartment fire drills and adult apartment fire drills kicked in. College? Smell for smoke and when none was found, go back inside and remove battery from fire alarm. Adulthood? Work as a team with all tenants to track the source of the problem and remedy it. Now that's all fine and dandy, I love solving mysteries like all Sherlock Holmes' of the world, but let me remind you it was past my bedtime already when the alarm went off and now I'm standing in an atrium with six of my neighbors, dressed in a short robe (I was still decent, don't you worry) with coconut oil moisturizing my face. These poor souls probably thought I was getting paid by BP to produce oil.
We track the source of the ringing down, an uneventful pushed button in the elevator, and I look toward my front door, wanting to dive under the covers, hide my face, and call it a night. Instead, my mother's advice ringing in my ears, I stayed and got to know the neighbors. We talked going-ons in the area, issues in the building, and I got to know the people who I hope will guard my packages. I now know my neighbor's names, as opposed to college when I knew five neighbors total over the span of three years.
Of course, the whole time I was thinking "I should be in bed, I'll regret this tomorrow" but I was proud of myself for being the adult and sticking it out, oily face and all. Conveniently enough, as I hover over the 'publish' button, I can hear another building's fire alarm ringing in the distance.