I’m not very good at earthquakes.
The first I ever knowingly experienced I thought a truck was driving past. Then I remembered that I was in the Highlands of Papua New Guinea, it had taken four planes and a helicopter to get me to where I was, and that the closest truck was a couple of hundred kilometres away.
About a month before I moved to the US (the first time), a 6.8 earthquake hit Seattle. Fissures opened up in the ground and buildings buckled. My mother rang me and told me I wasn’t moving anymore.
Then there was that Icelandic one that I completely failed to notice.
This morning, I was woken at 6:20am by the earth moving. I did what any reasonable person would do: I googled "earthquake Copenhagen" on my phone. At least half the first page results were using the word metaphorically, so I figured that this area was seismically uninteresting, and that one of my neighbours must have been breaking the building in some new and interesting manner. But apparently, I was wrong – it was 4.7, and the epicenter was 65 km away in southern Sweden. The word is that it’s the largest one to hit the area since they started measuring.