indoor weather

There is a wind tunnel in the stairwell at work.

I understand that sometimes weather can worm its way indoors - humidity creeps everywhere, like some stealthy frizz-inducing villain. Excessive rain causes ceilings to drip and basements to flood. But how do 30-mile-an-hour winds end up in the 5-story stairwell of a university building?

The good news: I arrive at work every morning with a lovely, windswept hairdo.

The bad news: Due to the ferocious blowings of said wind tunnel, the already-heavier-than-normal fire safety doors (leading from the stairwell to the actual hallways and offices) become leaden. Seriously - the door to the second floor weighs about 275 pounds. Luckily, I work on the third floor - but due to poor planning in the restroom situation in this building (read: there is only one stall in the ladies' room on my floor), I often travel downstairs throughout my day (where the ladies' room has a much less awkward three stalls).

I thought the picture was appropriate, although it reminds me that I only have a vague idea of how those tall wind turbines actually work to produce electricity. Kind of like how my friend D asked me, "What exactly does it mean when they say 'You're in escrow'?" yesterday at lunch. I laughed, informed her I'm still not exactly sure, and told her what little I did know (which pretty much boils down to "The bank takes hundreds of extra dollars along with my mortgage payment each month and dumps it into their own account to pay my city taxes later. And it makes me angry.")

I know. You're marveling at my masterful ability to weave together stories of restrooms, wind tunnels, real estate terms, electricity and fire doors. And can you believe... I don't even have to try.