After taking psychick out to dinner and avoiding doing my midterms for a couple of hours, the boy and I headed to bed. I was planning to get up early and head to the gym before going up to open the lab. I was not, however, planning to be woken up at 4:45 by firefighters pounding on my door and screaming, "Get up! Get up! Get out!"
Evidently the boiler in the basement had exploded earlier in the evening, and was releasing carbon monoxide and fumes into the entire building. Our carbon monoxide detector wasn't working, but someone else's had - very fortunately! - gone off and they called the fire department. (Otherwise I would probably not be writing this, if you know what I mean, which is pretty fucking freaky. Anyhow.) When the firefighters showed up, they decided the situation was bad enough to have to evacuate the building. I just feel lucky they gave us three minutes to throw on some clothes - especially because I sleep naked! - and grab our cats. We were totally spaced from being woken up and from the fumes, so we couldn't find our cat carrier - or the cats, who were hiding under the bed. After a few frantic cat-hunting moments, we tossed the cats into a duffel bag, grabbed some essentials like wallet, keys and my brand new laptop (don't laugh at me!), and ran out into the night. As we went, I could hear the firefighters breaking windows in other apartments to let the fumes out. It was . . . exciting. Yeah.
Fortunately rscott gave us a place to sleep on short notice. (Rob, we're sorry for waking you up! Did I mention that enough times?) I probably could have gone home in the morning, but I'm going to be vaguely nervous about heading back home until we get our carbon monoxide detector fixed, so I'm waiting for the boy to meet me tonight. I also have a nagging headache, which I'm thinking is due to various unpleasant types of inhalation.
On the other hand, I'm really glad to be alive. As I said to the boy, as we fled the apartment with the kitties in tow, "we've got everything that matters. No matter what happens, we can make it from here."
And on that sentimental note, I leave you.
(P.S. And yes, my new laptop was on the list of "things that matter." Does that make it less sentimental?)