Restoring calma, without luck

Posted: Wednesday, 11 November 2009 | Posted by Harry Harris |


In life there are good days and bad days.

Today I would describe as unsuccessful.

Two rather disruptive episodes happened.

Number one:

During a shorthand class today, with I would say about 20 of my fellow journalism students were present, I experienced something quite spontaneous. And unpleasant.

If the subject of writing in cryptic codes is not painful enough, mid-way through a sentence, I found myself somewhere totally unexpected: the floor, under a desk I once slouched upon.

How had I got myself here I questioned my brain.

As I sat on the carpet confused, laughing could be heard from above.

I then realised what had taken place as I turned around to see the chair I once sat on.
It had clearly given up hope and looked at me in horror as I stared at one of it's legs, bending in completely the wrong direction and snapped from the tip. It was like I was the two-ton man who had dared to sit on it.

"I must of put on a few pounds", I announced as I clambered upwards.

At this point there was a general feeling of humiliation, and there was more of that to round off my day.

Number 2:

After the above incident perhaps calma needed to be restored, although I do normally think that stuff is codswallop.

Anyway, as I strolled through university, I saw a small woman struggling with an oversized trolly. The piece of equipment had been caught on the rut between two doors.
But these were no ordinary doors, these were those of the electronic, unpredictable kind.

If you can forsee what happened next you are sharper than I am.

Midday through lifting the trolley over the ruts on the ground, something came at me.

On my face was the automatic door.

These doors do not come from the side, but straight at you.
Unfortunately this particular one had clearly had enough of being open and I became the food to it's closing mouth.

As I bumped my head, I heard laughing.

I looked out of the doors towards approximately five people off my course.





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