remember fire drills?
we had one the other day here in the building where i work. its one time when 99% of my colleagues actually move together in cattle formation. (certainly none of us think alike, although you might hear some groupspeak once in a while.)
exceptions:
people who question if this is a real fire drill.
people who were taking a smoke break on the roof and didn't hear the alarm.
i work on the 5th floor of a 6-story building -- well, i work there for at least the next few weeks (until i find my next technical writing/computer job paying more $$$ and considerably more challenging that my current sinecure).
loud sirens went off. the volume of the psychedelic/goa trance i was listening to on headphones drown out the sirens for a while... wasnt sure if it was a buzzer or another sound effect in the mix. i grab my sh*t and leave.
fire doors slam shut around the elevators, so we are all obliged to go down the stairs. like everyone else descending the clanky metal stairs, i cant remember the last time i walked down more than one flight of stairs in this building. groupwalk.
coworkers are talking, animated. no one is unhappy to be unexpectedly and temporarily forced out of their daytime caves. at this point, it doesnt matter that the building could actually be on fire.
if it were burning, i'd be S.O.L. coz i jetted out of there without taking my wallet, car keys, or jacket.
when we had a planned practice fire drill last year, everyone assembled in a predesignated area of the parking lot or the grassy knoll, according to company. (there are about four companies at my building.). building supervisors and office managers accounted for us, just like in elementary school. the exercise was timed to benchmark our bovine skills.
this year, we would have none of that organization. instead, a big mass of twenty- and thirtysomethings milled about in the parking lot under the winter southern california sun, soon before lunchtime.
i didnt hang out with the crowd outside. i heard by chance one building person say, "you can go back in now, false alarm." i was on the elevator back to my cave before the rest of the folks.
then there was the talk about the fire drill at the lunch the following day. "oh i knew it wasnt a real one." "yeah, that guy just stayed up on the roof and then came down, even though he knew we were having a fire alarm."
every workday morning, my alarm goes off, but i hit the snooze. and sleep and oversleep. guess ya have to be motivated to go into work on time and not fear discipline.but that's an alarm that i expect, because i (usually) set it before going to sleep.
my life has its share of false alarms. things that aren't what they appear to be at first, but which trigger a standard response.
the question is: am i prepared to handle the disappointment or joy that comes with accepting the real?
Joni Mitchell's always been my girl: her song "Amelia" from the 1976 album Hejira is a favorite. an excerpt:
Maybe I've never really loved
I guess that is the truth
I've spent my whole life in clouds at icy altitude
and looking down on everything
I crashed into his arms
Amelia, it was just a false alarm
