Still Talking about it.

Who knew, Reader Dear, this story would go on and on.  And, WHO KNEW, as well, when this whole pandemic thing began (in it's confusing, disjointed way) that it was going to last so long?! Remember the story I just gave you of That Weekend? (Come now, it happened so recently). 

Well, after the lovely concert had reached its end, and the HM and I and our Hometown Friends had done a lot of visiting and eaten a lot of cookies and marveled at the night sky, we drove back  to our hotel, went to our rooms, and retired for the night. Speaking strictly for myself, we were tired. All four of us (so I was told by three of us) went to sleep. The beds, in my opinion, were luxurious and well-outfitted.

 ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

 Now, then. I'm going to tell you of a small event that could be a quasi-metaphor for how the COVID pandemic progressed. In the dark of night, we woke to a loud squawking noise.

Foggy minds did not immediately know what was developing (based on research gathered later). There was that LOUD noise. It continued to sound relentlessly. The HM climbed out of bed and was looking at his phone. I thought perhaps it was his alarm. But, No! he said. Not my phone! My brain was beginning to squawk now, and the HM said, "I think it's the fire alarm!"

 I cracked the hotel room door and watched masses of bleary-eyed fellow-third-floor hotel guests standing in confusion or milling toward the staircase, headed down. 

  "What are we supposed to do?" I said to no one in particular.

"I would guess leave the building!" one woman responded.

Back into our room I went, and began to put on clothing.  "I suppose I could die for this," I said to the HM, "but I'm not going down to the lobby in my sleepy time outfit!"

He was already dressed and heading out the door to see if he could get more information.

When fully clothed, I grabbed all the items that I didn't really wish to envision in a cremated state: laptop, phone, purse, those shoes I just bought. Oh, and my glasses...

By the time I got to the top of the staircase with a couple other straggling risk-takers like myself, there was a guest who had already been below, and was headed back toward the room that housed the bed he'd been using (I'm only assuming that's where he was going; like the pandemic, there were many theories).  "They say it was somebody smoking in their room," he muttered.  

Hmmm.

Okay.  

But why was the alarm still sounding?!!

Reader Dear...yes, this post is to be continued (sound like the quarantine?!)  Confusion still reigns.