In my attempts to stay active in college and thanks to my own natural active tendencies, I have almost completely avoided the use of elevators in my college career. I’d take the elevator if I needed to go to a floor above the 4th, but hardly ever at any other time. And in a city where buildings taller than 10 floors may or may not exist, this effort is not a difficult one.
This last year however, for obvious reasons, I’ve succombed to the ease of the elevator.
I use the contraption almost every day.
Usually if I am going higher than the second floor, but today i gave in to my worn out body. To the elevator i went. Pressed the button for the second floor (oh for shame!) and watched as people pressed in with their oh so lofty thoughts and goals of the 3rd and 4th floors.
I insisted on drowning the wave of guilt that washed over me as I rode to my lowly second level.
I pushed (excused) my way through the lofty building risers as I exited and decided that no one begrudged me that extra stop on their climb to glory.
And in my state of obvious more-than-one-ness my guilt was assuaged.
The effort saved should be enough to get me through.
39 weeks and 5 days pregnant.
Take your energy while you can.