Why I no longer whine at fire drills.

I’ve just returned from the griddle
masquerading as a street across our building. The RCBC fire alarm sounded past
3. A woman’s voice mechanically nagged us to head for the nearest fire exits and
not to return to the building unless instructed to do so. Joey and I made a
quick trip to the jane before trooping down the stairs with the rest of the guys
(well, those who hadn’t been lucky enough to escape before the building turned
off power to the elevators). Between the 14th and 12 floors, it suddenly
occurred to me how I would get out if I had to carry Lucien all the way. All
kinds of scenarios went through my head – the strangest of which was taking off
my pants, wetting them in the sink and wrapping them around the little one
before going down the stairs sideways to lessen the risk of losing my footing.

I took this shot yesterday, on the way
to work. A bus was in flames on EDSA, in the middle of the morning rush hour.