Today I heard the voice of God.

It is not the first time, that was about a month ago. Around 22:30 on a Wednesday (God is very memorable). Having arrived from work about an hour earlier I was pretty tired and decided to watch an episode of Flight of the Conchords ("formerly New Zealand's fourth most popular guitar-based digi-bongo a capella-rap-funk-comedy folk duo") in bed.

Suddenly, a booming voice erupted from my kitchen. To put this in perspective "my kitchen" is also my hallway and it is not at any time possible to get more than 4 meters away from it unless leaving the apartment. In bed this distance is considerably shorter.

Naturally, when someone you are not aware of starts yelling in your apartment, there follows a short interval of confusion. The voice however, oblivious to my panic continued its thundering monologue. God, in his wisdom, wanted me to know that the elevator was now in order. At least that was my interpretation of God's message. You see, even if addressing a supposedly "international" student house, God's preferred and often only method of conversation is Japanese. He is also surprisingly loud, appears to live in the ceiling and his Word is preceded by beeping noises one can only assume is the celestial choir.

God only knows why it is imperative to inform me about the status of the elevator before I go to sleep.