pterodactyl fail!

I am putting makeup on on Sunday.

Why am I putting makeup on on Sunday? Am I going to mass? No. A wedding? No. Dancing? No. A Zoom meeting? No. Some unexpected Sunday evening social event? 

NO.

I am preparing for a 9 PM fire alarm.

Friday night, the building fire alarm went off a half out after 9 PM.

That is a fluke.

Saturday night, the fire alarm went off a half hour after 9 PM.

That is a pattern.

Friday I was sort of presentable. I had a reason to have a bit of makeup on and not be “scary girl who pulled an all nighter on the computer.”

Saturday? 

I WAS “scary girl who pulled an all nighter on the computer AND still has Friday’s make up smudged under her eyes.” That sometimes looks like ravaged maybe lives on the streets girl. And sometimes looks like black eye girl someone should advise to dump the guy and get counseling girl. It depends on how Friday’s makeup smudged out.

I don’t need to meet all my neighbors all at once looking like that. 

If I get rousted though? By a fire alarm loud enough to shatter ear drums and raise demons? 

Out I go.

Fuck. Me.

Now it’s Sunday. 

I don’t know if the same individual who has pulled a fire alarm two nights running in my building will do it again tonight. 

(Whoever you are, I do not have kind thoughts about you or your parents or your grandparents or your ancestors and am thinking a pterodactyl really missed the mark once upon a time in the ancient past taking a notch out of humanity’s family tree. Pterodactyl fail!)

But the pterodactyl did fail, an unfortunate family line remained intact. Two nights running the building fire alarm has driven me into a parking lot with EVERY OTHER RESIDENT OF THE BUILDING.

SO.

TONIGHT.

I washed my face and put on some makeup. Not a lot. But enough to not be “scary AF computer all nighter girl” tonight again if I again have to throw electronics into a carry all bag a half hour after 9 PM and lock up and trudge down multiple sets of stairs to gather with and smile grimly at every other resident in the building in a parking lot.

It’s rougher on the pet owners. The people with dogs (that siren from hell is fore sure damaging my ear drums, imagine what it is doing to poor super sensitive dog ears?) and the people with cats (grab and stuff Kitty into a carrier and jostle with all those dogs on the stairs, wtf?, poor Kitty!).

Going over in my head reasons to set off a fire alarm in one building every night just after 9 PM:

1. You’re an asshole.
2. You’re an asshole.
3. You’re an asshole.

I refuse to battle my hair. That is what baseball caps are for.

But maybe I will put on a bra just in case.

A bra at the computer.

So! Wrong!

Makeup on Sunday. 

So! Wrong!

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Love & Kisses,

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Your How Did That Pterodactyl Fail (?!?) Me Adams Girl

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Update: It’s after 11 PM, no siren, no alarm. Yay!

Here is the thing though. Anyone who has ever been a target? They know they have to be on alert 24/7. They don’t get to take a nice nap or break ever, they are always the target. And there is no rest for a target. An attacker or stalker? (Or alarm puller? God I wish that pterodactyl got your ancestor.) That person can take a break any time for a nice nap or cake. But the target? Cannot. Because the target doesn’t know when their stalker or attacker is taking a break.