Michelle's Tales, Part One

This is a pretty close approximation to what my hair looks like.

So,
I was blow drying my hair before work in the fourth floor restroom in my building.  I do this every day.  (It saves time, it doesn't tangle my long curls, I have more room.)

To be fair, I am the only person I've ever seen do this, but on the other hand, I HAVE been doing it every day for years. 

On this particular day, someone took offense. 

I'd just finished drying and flipped my hair back, and realized someone was in there with me.

Here's what happened next:

Mean Lady: You can't be serious. 

Me: Huh?

(I've always been quick on the uptake.)

Mean Lady: You're not seriously DRYING YOUR HAIR in here. 

Me (looking around to see if she was talking to someone else): Um. 

Mean Lady: This is outrageous. That can't be sanitary. 

Me (finally catching up): Um, we're in the bathroom. 

Mean Lady: I'm going to report this!!!

And with that, Mean Lady stormed out of the bathroom. 

I took a moment to compose myself... I had genuine visions of ending up like TV's Dr. Green, being beat half to death in the bathroom in E/R. Then I strolled out to the elevator where, yay, Mean Lady was also waiting. 

We waited in silence, got on the elevator in silence, rode to my floor in silence, where I stepped off and never saw her again. 

I think of her though, still, over two years later, every morning when I blow dry my hair in that same fourth floor restroom.

(sigh) I'm still waiting for building management to come have me arrested. It takes just one person to ruin all your fun. :)

Such is...

I think I will start writing journal entries while I'm at work, and posting them when I get home...things are so much better at work than they are at home.  At least lately, they are.  
Of course, now that I've said that I'll probably get fired next week...  
(Of course I wouldn't write while I was at WORK, I meant while I was on BREAK at work.  I would never ever treat my job in such a way!  Shocked at the assumption!)  ;)  
I work in a high-rise building, but I work on the third floor, so I always take the stairs.  
a)  Because every little bit helps, and  
b)  Because I hate that strange vibe you get in elevators when there's more than just you.  
But one day, for some reason, I got on the elevator instead of taking the stairs.  A man was already standing in there.  I pressed '3', and it didn't light up.  I pressed '3' again.  And again.  And stared at the number panel, dumbfounded.  Why didn't it light up?  Why didn't the door close?  
And finally the man said, "Uh, ma'am, you do know that we're already on the third floor, right?..."   ...  
(sigh) Things like that happen to me all the time, unfortunately...
...
........................................................................................  

I don't get to go back to work until Monday...I'd run away this weekend, but of course I'd have to take the family with me!