My blog reading interests have shifted from wedding mania to house mania. Damn do I love a good house blog. So when I read this post about a sudden apartment fire and having to get out with only a few minutes to grab and run, it made me paranoid enough to take action.

This morning, around 5:30, we heard the most nasal and obnoxious noise coming from the hallway, and I was wide awake when I realized it was the fire alarm. Spoiler alert: everyone is safe and fine, and there was no fire anywhere near our apartment.

One of the big things I thought of after reading the article and again this morning was, “Where’s the cat?” We decided to stow the cat carrier in the hall closet right by the front door, and knowing where it was instantly was great. Thankfully, the cat was so freaked out by the alarm sound that he didn’t dash under the bed and hide, he just parked himself very firmly in the middle of the hallway, and didn’t fuss in the least as he was loaded in the carrier.

In the spirit of disregarding fire safety, I opened our apartment door, but could neither smell smoke or see fire. I know, I know, this was dumb, but it’s what happened. Chris woke up, we pulled on coats and jeans and I grabbed my purse and keys and we were out the door. We waited outside with about 15 other people (our apartment building is big, and has 3 different doors), many with cats in carriers or wrapped in towels. The firefighters tramped through the stairwell, and the alarm shut off after 15 minutes.

There was a point, just before we left, that I looked around the apartment, at all of our things. I felt remarkably detached from it, though this could be due to not seeing a threat of fiery destruction out the door, and knowing we’d be back inside soon. It felt good to be prepared enough (and know that we have insurance) for Chris and I to quickly grab what we needed and get out quickly.