breaking free

Freedom is that instant between when someone tells you to do something and when you decide how to respond. -Dr. Jeffrey Borenstein

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Fire Drills

I used to love fire drills in elementary school. I can still remember the adrenaline that rushed through my veins when I heard the siren, the excitement of seeing that flashing little fire box, and, of course, the excuse of getting out of class to go outside. Now, fast-forward about ten years to present day.
I hate fire drills with a passion. At this very moment I could be snuggled up in my blankets, all warm and cozy, but no. Instead I am at the Library, after having been ruthlessly torn from my bed, and pushed out into the cold, cruel, weather. Now you may say that I’m being dramatic, but after, o say, a dozen fire drills (Normally ranging from midnight to 8 a.m.) in two months (no exaggeration) I think I have a right to hate fire drills. Often one drill will occur a mere hour after the previous one, right after I have fallen asleep again.
AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!! That is the sound you will hear from a couple hundred girls after the fire alarm goes off. It’s not the “oh, I’m scared” scream, but “why the heck does this have to happen to me” scream. I must admit that I myself have participated in this new ritual more than once.
Well, I can no longer see the fire trucks outside of Knight so I wish you all a wonderful day as I go back and dream about the inexistence of fire drills.