Lights out!

Everything about my new job is awesome. However, as the weeks go by I am beginning to uncover the stresses of my extremely low-stress job. First and foremost; the bathroom. It's down the hall and it requires a key; but that's not the stressful part. The bathroom is lit by motion sensor lights. I love the fact that my building is doing it's part to help Mother Earth, but it's gone a little too far. The sensors don't seem to work for me. I wait until the last possible moment to use the restroom; I wriggle around in my seat, finish every mundane task I can think of and then walk cross-legged down the hall to....the bathroom. After wrestling to unlock the door (because it weighs a much as a baby Triceratops) I stumble into pitch blackness, completely disoriented and frantic. I violently jerk toward the direction of the stall, hoping that my uncontrollable spastic movements will trigger the sensor, but to no avail. The darkness is not calming, nor relaxing. It is not peaceful or meditative. It is terrifying and I hate it. It is only when I have grown accustomed to the blackness and am washing my hands that the sensor deems me worthy enough to bathe me in light. That is when I shudder in horror at my image in the Texas-sized mirror; shrunken pupils-recoiling from the light, eyes darting back and forth in anticipation of an attack.

When I have returned to the safety of my desk I start to ponder the ups and downs of The Stadium Pal. It just may be worth it.