New site and first blog post.

So I’m going to tell a story about last week.

Last week we had An Important Meeting at my workplace. It was going to be a rather stressful meeting; some meetings are like that. I had a bit of a stomach ache thinking about it.

So I went to the room where it was to be–a lovely room, with three sides of glass, at the top of a building. It’s been awhile since I was in that room, and it’s been renovated. And in renovating, someone made the decision to get rid of the washroom that used to be there. So I had to go back downstairs to find one.

One was fairly close by–just around a corner. But with a large sign on it, a rather official looking sign, about how this washroom was for the use of faculty and staff only. Faculty of that particular department, I guessed. The Classics are in that area. In my own building, we have the Philosophy folks who are also rather keen to keep their loo to their selves, and the only way to access their toilet was to requisition a key…which I did a few years ago.

So I tried my key in this lock. No, it did not work. I headed off down the hall to find the next bathroom. And realized it was FAR away. I muttered some words at that point, some really grouchy words. Surely, there had to be another washroom somewhere closer. Grouch. Mutter, mutter…  I stopped to ask someone, and he pointed me back to the washroom I’d already tried. Then he walked with me to it. Even as I began to say something about it being locked…he pushed at the door. And it opened.

I hadn’t even tried to push. I thanked him, and walked in.

I sat through the meeting, spoke up as needed, and listened. And kept thinking about how I need to remember to push sometimes. Not even a hard push. Things are not always locked. Not even when they appear to be.