My Chef woke me up at about 2:30 Am with "Uhhh the apartment above us is on fire." I would like to say that I jumped from the bed and gathered all my readily available necessities and escaped in under five minutes. More like we slowly hearded the cats and I ran around like a chicken without its proverbial head trying to find my keys while I called the fire department. Fortunately they were already on their way. We saw the firemen on their way up as we were on the way down, laden with two upset cats. (If you've never tried to get two already very stressed out cats into carriers, well you just haven't lived.)
We existed on snippets of info from the Firemen's radios as they tramped in and out of the building for at least an hour. I have no idea how long we were in the tiny entryway with a bunch of our neighbors and their cats, but I think it was about an hour and a half. The whole time I was freaking out that the floor would give way and all my shit would get burned as well.
Fortunately we were allowed to go back up to find that everything had been moved around and covered with tarps, as water poured through lighting fixtures, and along support beams into my apartment. It was sortof like a cave, only it smelled like moldy fire that someone had farted on.
The water is gone now, we cleaned up yesterday, but I have no internet or cable and my phone broke in the shuffle. Everything still smells like ass though but at least nothing important was broken and everyone is safe. Apparently the apartment above us was destroyed, I still haven't gone up to look. If I do, I will post photos.