Once upon a time in Edinburgh somebody burned their toast. That wouldn’t seem like a very exciting story, except that it had some interesting implications.
It’s a pretty well known fact that I don’t wake up well under the best of circumstances. I’m always disoriented and usually somewhat blind for the first half hour or so. But this morning was a new step even for me.
To begin with, I wasn’t in my normal bed. I was in Edinburgh. And I had pushed two beds together to share with three other girls. And we were up into the wee hours of the night having pillow talk and freaking out over ghost tales. But that was all fine because we were going to be able to sleep in.
And then some dingo brain burned their toast. Which set off the fire alarm. Which woke us all up.
That’s a lie. I was only kinda woken up by the alarm. I was woken up for real by my roommate who had just gotten out of the shower running through the hall screaming, “I’m naked!” Basically it was that nightmare where the fire alarm goes off and you’re in the shower and you have to run outside all exposed.
The girl next to me in bed (not to be confused with the one practically on top of me) happened to be having a birthday today. In my just-woken-up delirium I assumed the alarm was going off because we burnt the cake batter pancakes we were making her. So of course the first words out of my mouth in the midst of panic were, “Happy birthday, Nicole!” Which I yelled quite loudly so as to be heard over the alarm.
The mornings in Edinburgh tend to be sort of brisk. Especially if you are wet and semi naked. Or if you are still in your duck pajamas. Or if you didn’t have time to grab your shoes. I played human blanket for the birthday girl. And then the fire brigade came.
We had intended to go back to sleep for a bit. Naturally in the course of our escape we managed to set off a security alarm.