I was in the breakfast room, taking a test that involved seeing if two of my classmates and I could successfully answer a certain number of Trivial Pursuit questions in a row without any collaboration. (Much like AP English senior year of high school.) We knew that our teacher, Snape (from Harry Potter) was strict so we definitely couldn’t work together. We got the right number of questions correct, which should have meant we all passed the test, but then a message – possibly a scroll? – appeared with a note that Snape would test us individually after all because he didn’t trust us, which we figured was because we were all Muggle-born.
Then I woke up. It was 12.58 a.m.
In the space of a second or two, my sleepy, sleepy brain formulated a few thoughts:
* My bed is shaking.
* Aw, man, these neighbors haven’t woken me up while they were having sex since I moved down to this apartment over a year ago!
* Either we’re having an earthquake, or my neighbors are having sex.
* Wait, my bed is shaking. Their having sex shouldn’t make my bed shake.
* OK, so, earthquake, then.
And the answer is…I was right. 4 miles north-northwest of Chatsworth (in the Valley), magnitude 4.5.