Dog food and fire alarms

I learned an important fact about myself last night: If there was ever a fire there is no way I would survive. I would be cooked—extra crispy. How did I come to this realization that I could someday be the next crispy food delight on the McDonald's menu? Maybe it was a revelation from God. Or maybe it was my roommate shaking me awake at 1:30 a.m. telling me the fire alarm was going off. In a daze, I hopped out of bed, threw my sneakers on, and stumbled out the door of 799. That was a big mistake. 

Shivering in the frigid Minnesota night air, I imagined how warm those potential flames inside Fountain Terrace could have kept me nice and toasty. Instead, I was hovering around numerous groggy college students who felt as numb and cold as I did. Come to find out this morning, there was no fire or real danger. Instead, some lovely college students decided it would be funny to pull the fire alarm. Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was back in junior high, which isn't even possible since I was homeschooled. 

I don't understand people's fascination with fire alarms—or High School Musical—both which tend to burn our common sense away. 

P.s. Today I learned that Taco Bell and Arby's use meat that is the same grade level as dog food. DOG FOOD!?!?! Oh my...