I've just had one of those weeks. You know the ones: where the world just seems to be out to get you and you become a paranoid mess that usually either is the first or the last one to die in a horror flick. That was me throughout the end of this week, primarily because I became vertically challenged. Literally. Let me tell two stories -- one long and one short. First, on Wednesday. I had a meeting with my English Professor (I'm an English minor) on the third floor of our tech building. I was about to go up the stairs, but wasn't sure how high they went up (I'd only been in the upper floors of the tech building once to change my major -- I'd taken the elevator), so I decided to take the elevator. So, I'm standing in this elevator by myself. And it's just going up and I'm watching the numbers change from 1st to 2nd... and then we got to 3rd. But the elevator didn't stop. It went up higher than the third floor and then... dropped down to the third floor level. It was, like, a foot drop at best, but I almost had a heart attack. Then the doors opened about an inch... and then the whole elevator turned off. None of the buttons worked. Not the emergency button, not the "doors open" button. Nothing. I was about to freak out when I saw a shadow pass by the opening and yelled for help. My Philosophy professor came and we pried open the doors and I was finally free. Most horrifying five minutes of my life. Ever. Period. Second, Thursday... I fell down a flight of stairs. From the very top. I bruised my wrist and my back.
I have now decided I will never leave the first floor of a building. Ever again, if I can help it.
