Two posts today. One on the subject of how scary shit comes out of nowhere, so worrying is a waste of energy.

Today as I was leaving for lunch I had a scary elevator experience. My building is very nice, immaculately maintained, almond-scented soap in the spotless restrooms, polished brass and marble floors. (My own office is far more downscale, but the building is very posh.) We have a bank of very prompt, very shiny elevators. Today about seven of us got onto an elevator to go to lunch, and the doors shut and the elevator jerked and dropped a foot or two. We all made various yelping or swearing noises. Then it really dropped. Probably a floor. Fast and hard. Then the brake grabbed in and stopped it, and it rose, on its own, to our floor again.

The doors opened and we bolted out of there like something from a cartoon - one body with fourteen legs. We all stood there buggy-eyed, breathing hard, shaky, nervously joking, and then rode another elevator down to the ground without incident. As nerves go I'm fairly low-strung, but my legs were jelly for a half hour after that experience. I've ridden the Tower of Terror at Disney many times, I love it as a theme park ride, but it's quite another thing to do it live, without a seat belt.

I did think it was interesting, coming right after my ruminations about how bad shit will blindside you out of nowhere so you can either live in fear or deal with the reality that life is risky. I rode the elevators three more times today without incident. I won't get on that particular elevator until I see men with tool belts banging on it with great purpose. But I don't distrust the other elevators. Yet.