A Revolution Borne on Frustration

I cursed.  I closed my eyes hard and tried to escape to my happy place.  I clenched my fists and dug my uncut nails deep into my palms.  I was frustrated.

I had just missed the elevator as it left the ground floor of my university residence building.  As I heard the doors close and saw the LED display change from "G" to "2" I became irritated.  Ever since the second elevator for my 17 level, 408 person residence building broke down a week ago, I have found myself in this situation too many times.  As the elevator made its way slowly to level 17 without me, I stood there nursing a stress-induced peptic ulcer and considered lying down for a nap while I waited for the lift to return.

It was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.  I asked myself "Why is this elevator not fixed?  Why is this elevator suck at the 9th floor?"  I decided that some form of protest was needed.  I needed to make a point but do so with as little effort as possible (as I am extremely lazy).  Some bad ideas came to me.

"Speak with someone working in the residence office".  Yeah, like that has ever resolved any issue I have ever had in the past.  DUMB!
"Re-enact the Ten Plagues of Egypt in the residence office the next day."  Nope, too Biblical, too messy and too hard to pull off a good Moses dress-up without a beard.
"Door knock at a few flats to collect signatures for some dissatisfied resident petition."  Nah, too Jehova's witness-y and even if it wasn't, in the process of doing so, I would have to wait for the elevator many times and would become very frustrated.

Then I had a good idea.  I would leave post-it notes on the elevator doors in the hope that others sharing my frustration would do the same and collectively we would send a message to the residence office.

The moment I stuck the last of the sticky notes to the broken elevator's lifeless doors, I felt myself slip into a state of ease and comfort.  Even if no other resident was to add a post-it note, or worse, was to re-arrange my post-it notes to create some witty anagram, I was rid of my frustration.

So begins the exploration of my new coping mechanism, in which I utilize 76 mm canary yellow square notes to label everything that is wrong with the world.

Fun times ahead!