This is what fire drills do to people

I'm sitting in Fondren Library at Rice at the moment, and the fire alarm is going off. It's very loud and obnoxious, but I just now sat down at this computer, and I don't feel like moving at the moment. For all I know, the building could be burning to the ground. Yet here I sit, typing away.

And now, after about five minutes, they've finally come in and told us to evacuate. To be continued...

Sorry about that. Maybe there was an actual fire. But I must admit, I've come to the point where I just assume a fire alarm is just a drill, and for the most part I've learned to tune out the noise. (The only one I doubt I could ever tune out is the one at TJ. Now that one got you moving.)

And I'm not alone in my complacency. Of about 10 people in my line of sight at Fondren, I think two got up and left before the lady came in and asked us to. And I'd be willing to bet at least one left because of the noise rather than the fear of catching fire.

So I'd like to propose an e-toast to the fire drill: one of the most useless things they made us do in school, right alongside art class (where they decide what is and is not "art") and math (where they decide whether 1+1 does or does not equal "2").

Song lyric of the day:
"Since then it's been a book you read in reverse
So you understand less as the pages turn
Or a movie so crass and awkardly cast
That even I could be the star"
- the Shins, Pink Bullets

(Yes, I should have done something about fire, but I've had the lead riff to this song stuck in my head for the past 2 hours. Plus it fits a relatively nostalgic post. For a fire-related song quote, go here.)