So there was a rocket attack this morning around 7:30am, our first one in about a week and a half. I'm not sure how many there have been since I got here, I've stopped counting. The reason that I'm blogging on this one is that it was a little different.
Now I feel like before I tell this story I have to tell another one. Remember the great Ottawa earthquake of 2010? Well do you know where I was when the earth started to move? I was at work, as were a lot of people, and I had actually just sat down on the toilet when the ground, the walls and the very throne I was seated on began to shake. Having never really been in a significant earthquake I didn't really know what the safety rules were. In movies you see people getting in doorways or under tables, well what do you do when your pants are around your ankles and you're sitting on the toilet? Is there a safety procedure for that?
Anyways, you may or may not have guessed the reason I'm telling you this story by now. When the rocket attack siren went off this morning I was on the toilet. Now normally by the time the siren goes off the rocket is almost on the ground anyways, so if you're not in a position to immediately hit the deck then there really isn't much point. So as I sat there and the siren went off I didn't think much of it. But then almost right away I heard... whump! Close. Then... Whump! Closer. I haven't actually heard any rockets hit in any of the previous attacks and it must have made me a little nervous because when the siren restarted I made the decision to quickly open the door and lay on the bathroom floor. WHUMP! closer again. Now I'm not sure what the right amount of time is to lay on the bathroom floor in a rocket attack with your pants hastily pulled up but it really felt like far too long. Honestly, that washroom smells. Damn you Taliban! Damn you.
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