Just a quick post today. I apologize if posting might be a little sparse in the coming days. I’m working hard to wrap things up at my job in the event Chicken comes early. This afternoon I have a checkup with Dr. Shannon. Chicken is definitely still breech and I’m running out of steam with all the breech turning techniques. After nearly 3 weeks and hundreds of dollars I might be making my peace with just scheduling a c section and being done with it.
So, elevators. I work on the 6th floor meaning I’m in an elevator at least twice a day, usually more like four or six times a day. Elevators are strange places for the socially awkward (me). They are even stranger places for the pregnant. You are basically a captive conversation piece when pregnant and in an elevator. I’ve gotten A LOT of assvice while stuffing myself into the corner as discretely as possible. The other day, though, I had my strangest elevator experience to-date.
It is 8 a.m. and… wait, who the hell am I kidding? I’m never at work at 8 a.m. It’s more like 8:27 a.m. and I get on the elevator with two men. I’m going to the 6th floor and they are going to the 9th. All is cool until we stop on the second floor and the door opens and a woman steps on and asks, “Is this going up?”
Guy 1: Yep. Going up to heaven.
Lady: Hmmm, well I’m going down (and steps off elevator)
Guy 2 looks pensive and says: I guess I never thought of it that way.
Guy 1: You gotta go up to get to heaven.
I look around to see if any of these guys is carrying something insane.
Guy 2: Gotta look up to see our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Guy 1: Goin’ up to heaven! Amen!
We finally get to the 6th floor and I rushed out before they could say or do anything even crazier. It’s an elevator, people. Let’s not read too far into it, okthanksbye.
Have you had a particularly crazy experience on an elevator?