Monday, January 24, 2005
12:20 p.m.

I’m leaving my office building last week to make a phone call, heading towards the elevators. I was just going to start dialing when I saw the lanky, hulkish woman from the next suite waiting for an elevator as well. I became instantly irritated. She is not friendly, never smiles, and always treats the presence of others as a HUGE inconvenience to her. Whatever. So as I’m silently fuming because the world isn’t revolving around me as it should (cuz YOU KNOW it’s all about me), a chime bings and an elevator arrives. As I step inside and she is almost inside, another elevator arrives (the service elevator) and she EXITS MINE AND BOARDS THE OTHER ONE! So she’s so fucking important that she needs her own elevator? I’m not good enough to ride down five floors with? I didn’t even WANT her in my elevator to begin with, so I could get a chance to phone someone without the goddam light rail screeching by every 12 seconds. Because again, IT’S ALL ABOUT ME. So I’m left in the elevator, pondering what it is about me that is so repulsive that she can’t bear to share an elevator with me. But then, maybe, it’s not me, it’s her. Maybe she has gas. Maybe she just couldn’t hold it in for five long floors. Every second counts in that regard, right? So after all that, I still didn’t even make my stupid phone call as intended, because I was too busy over-analyzing why my newfound nemesis, whose presence was UNWANTED in the first place, declined to descend into the lobby with me. Why do I even care? People in underdeveloped countries would pay to have my problems.