My family has this joke about my love of books. It goes like this:
I'll be sitting in me favorite chair at home, reading, say, Larry Niven, and the house starts to burn down,
"Amy!" Mom would shout. "Get out of here! The house is going up in flames!"
And, very logically, I would reply,"Not until I'm finished with this chapter!"
I am very alert. At all times. When a true disaster strikes, I'll know when to get up and go.
But not until I finish this chapter...