Today, I am unloving...

Today - okay, for 7 weeks now, I have been unloving the whole cramped elevator situation in the office. In almost 2 decades working, turns out it's my first time to work in a central business district, in a high-rise office building, so the overstuffed elevator experience is new to me.

Everyday, while I'm thinking to myself that we're already packed like sardines in the elevator and no one else can possibly fit, more people push themselves inside.

It reminds me of that old sequence on Sesame Street where one, two, three... all the way to ten clowns come out of a tiny car. Well, that's how I see my elevator experience: like the clown car routine - in reverse! How in the world is that possible?!

I wouldn't mind being part of the audience watching the amazing circus routine. But this time, I'm one of the clowns getting squashed inside the elevator! 

Now I know how my clothes (and shopping loot) on out-of-the-country trips feel like in my overstuffed luggage. Gah!

Today, I am unloving... the overstuffed elevator situation in the office everyday.

Photos from annniegirl and deliciouslyorganized.

Click here for previous posts from the Today, I am unloving... series. Click here for my previous post on another elevator peeve.

dear woman in a ponytail in my office elevator

I wish you would think of your ponytail as another appendage. Because truly, it is as much an extension of you as your arm is. With a ponytail, your hair is not flat against the back of your head. It extends further away from your body than if you just wore it down.    

I know hair doesn't have nerve endings so you don't feel what your hair touches. But in a jam-packed elevator, your ponytail - no matter how beautifully messy - brushes against my face. Worse, when you look up to see what floor the elevator is on (on darn, almost every floor), your ponytail bobs up and down, that it feels like it's mopping my face.

Granted, I've only had 6 weeks experience riding crowded elevators to work everyday. I'm hoping that my too-far-reaching personal space will eventually be more accepting of the uncomfortable close proximity of strangers in the elevator. But I doubt I'll ever get used to your hair swishing around on my face. Your hair, literally in my face, is much too close for comfort. 

So tomorrow, could you maybe hold onto your ponytail so your hair stays within your personal space instead of invading mine?

Photo from acupofjo.

Click here for previous posts from the Dear... series.