I Just Generally Never Know What Is Going On

It's noon at the moment and I'm still trying to decipher whether or not someone complimented me or insulted me this morning. The comment was in Spanish and Spanish is my 2nd language so there could be a barrier there. It was said with a smile and the word could have been slang for something good or it could have been literal for something bad. I don't really care either way but I am very amused at this confusion. I'm positive there have been entire sitcom episodes/stand up routines/Shakespearean plots dedicated to a misunderstanding, miscommunication or someone being fortune's fool.

Other amusing things: last night at around 11 p.m. I was jolted out of my half sleep by the hallway fire alarm going off in the apartment building. I don't really know why but my initial reaction is to ignore beeping. It is likely Darwinism at work but I'll wait a full few minutes or so before acting on a beep coming from somewhere distant, particularly if I'm lying down. So my sister and I woke up at the same time to "investigate" and by "investigate" I mean we met in the hallway of our apartment and looked at each other before deciding to open the door. When we did, Rowan walked up at that exact moment, she had been out visiting a friend in a neighborhood bar and her standing right there was pure serendipity. When we opened the door she was there and I heard her Scottish accent saying "I don't know, I've just arrived here." there were people milling around and one woman going "I DON'T KNOW WHERE THAT SOUND IS COMING FROM" and pretty much freaking out. I remained UN-freaked and when Rowan said "Something is happening because I just saw a person exiting the building with a cat on their head" I was about to go back to bed, certain I was dreaming. I didn't know what was going on. But I started laughing anyway because Rowan was describing the "cat shawl" and my sister was imitating the annoyed neighbor from next door and also, our apartment building is full of potheads who no doubt set off whatever alarm was going off by smoking weed and being annoying and maybe I had a contact high. I don't know. I just know that I felt manic and tired and it was all hilarity. Meanwhile my stow away cats were trying to peek around the open door to "see what was happening" and unlike my neighbor, I would be unable to wear my cats like a shawl so I was trying to suavely shoo them out of the way while also see what was going on.

So it turns out everyone collectively decided to ignore the alarm since there was no smoke nor smell and it would have all ended fine if the fire department hadn't arrived minutes later. I opened the apartment door again and the firemen were walking downstairs from what was likely the apartment right above ours because frankly, those people are weirdos and if anyone was going to cause a stupid ruckus, it was them. I asked the very, very handsome fireman if we had to evacuate (because then I'd HAVE to put pants on) and he said no, someone burned their food.

Still, I now know that my neighbors wear their cats as shawls. Useful information for the Law and Order detectives when they come to question me and I'm too busy to talk to them about someone I tangentially know getting knifed.

This morning so far I've been asked a million questions at the library that I have no answer to. Things like "Why doesn't the copy machine work?" and "Why is it so expensive to ride the subway?" and "Why is your child screaming this early in the  morning?" Rereading that, I'm having a big reveal that more than likely I'm not even at the library today but rather in a padded room, talking to myself.

I just never know what is going on. At work, at home, in my love life, in my family. I think I should just adopt a drawing of a woman shrugging as my sigil and ride that lack of information like a wave.