Look at me!

On Super Bowl Sunday I showered and ventured out – as far as I would likely go for the rest of the day. I was headed to the recycling bins in the parking garage.

If it had been trash, I wouldn’t have had to go further than the trash shoot down the hall. But alas.

Boarding the elevator, I looked down at myself and laughed. It had been only a few days since I had emerged from the bathroom at school and walked into the Staff Lounge. A group of younger teachers were eating their lunch and discussing things of interest – i.e. not diapers.

“What’s so funny?” one of them asked me.

I had just seen myself in the bathroom mirror. “I mean, LOOK AT ME!” I gestured to myself, particularly to my head.

They all burst out laughing.

My hair was in a bun so high it might have hit the ceiling. There were at least three pens and mechanical pencils adorning the unkempt poof of snarls.

“The thing is, I don’t think they noticed until I pointed it out, because I probably ALWAYS look like that!” I told my husband later.

Another day, I set out for a walk with Little L only to discover that on this almost spring-like day, I was wearing two scarves. Maybe Little L’s “ha-da!”s as we were getting ready were not a sign of excitement about getting outside given our Condo Fever, but a warning cry about my fashion blunder.

I guess it’s not too early to start embarrassing her.

Back to the elevator. I noticed that, although my hair was clean, it was again up in one of those “I didn’t look in the mirror when I did this” styles.

Worse, my new cute black hoodie was full of carrots, peas, and bodily functions. Not my own, I promise.

“I hope no one gets on,” I thought to myself as the doors closed and my descent began.

And then on Floor 3, the elevator stopped. Some Guy got on.

Some Guy and I greeted each other. He too was carrying recycling, but looking much more put together than I was for a Super Bowl Sunday afternoon. Maybe he would even be leaving his apartment again later  that day – a hot date with the mailroom perhaps!?

Since Some Guy and I were clearly headed to the same spot and since I had gotten on first, I wondered – will he let me exit first?

It was Little L’s nap time and Axel and I were both in a rush to get as much done as we could.

The elevator door opened.

Some Guy did not hesitate. He slipped out the door.

I judged him for it. Silently.

But then – but then! – he veered from the path to the door to hit the automatic opener switch. Because both of his hands were full with recycling.

What did I do?

I wish I could say I waited gallantly, since, well, two don’t have to play this game.

Don’t judge.

I slipped through the door, conveniently open now. I walked quickly towards the recycling room. I opened the door and propped it open with the doorstop.

He approached.

I made eye contact, not sure what was going to happen.

“You go ahead,” he said. “I’ll wait.”

We would have both fit in there at the same time, but I went ahead anyway. Within 10 seconds I had exited the Recycling Room, was headed back to the elevators, and was on my way upstairs.

Some Guy would have to catch the next elevator up.

Did I feel bad about my behavior?

Definitely.

But I like to think he understood why I was trying so urgently to get back to the safety of my own apartment.

I mean… LOOK at me!