High Rise Fire Alarm

We live a LONG way up from the ground, like WAY WAY up, and last summer, before I moved here, I made M promise that any time the fire alarm went off, he'd take those stairs down and not just ignore it. Even if it was 3 a.m. Even if it was 30 below outside.
Well, it was 25 above this morning, and it was 8 a.m., but it was Saturday morning when the alarm went off and after going down the many floors, eyes still half closed in the stairwell, and waiting downstairs for 20 minutes for a fire truck to show up and say all was clear, I cannot get any more sleep. I've essentially given up on more sleep this morning.
We have a gorgeous view of downtown Montreal from our living room window, but these are the true perks of living in a high rise.

To Sleep... or not to sleep?

If I was trying to complete my allusion, I should finish with "that is the question", but in reality, it's not a question any more. Just about everyone I know wants more sleep, and just about everyone I know doesn't get it. This article in the Globe and Mail hit the point home, and I've been meaning to post it for a few days, but it was always late by the time I got around to it, and I kept deciding to sleep instead.