... doesn't mean we're good at communication.

So, apparently my roommate (also a journalist) covered a late-night meeting the first evening I returned from vacation/that VERY long walk. I went to bed about 11 p.m.; she got home about 2:30 a.m.

And then the fire alarm went off.

I awoke to loud, loud beeping and her unusually high-pitched voice shouting: "Sorry! I'm sorry!"

And I was all "I need more information. Are you sorry because you set off the alarm, or because you set the house on fire?"

And I had to walk all the way downstairs to discover: No fire. Just food.

Good, good.
Labels: | edit post
0 Responses