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All The Doors Are Closed

There are too many closed doors on campus on this fine Sunday morning.

As I awoke one morning from uneasy dreams I found myself unable to open doors.

The weight of my dorm room door, with its anti-slam brake, was hard enough to open that I considered crawling backward and falling asleep. The elevator screech hurt my ears, and after stopping on every single floor from 13 through 8, the notion of doors sliding open once more sent me into a frenzy. When I tried to push the accessible door on the John Jay ground floor, despite a cup of shitty iced coffee, I struggled in vain.

Stumbling into Mudd, I was met with more closed doors. The CS lounge was locked, keeping me out of its cushioned silent study. I ascended the flights of stairs to the CESPR bridge, only to find a glass wall where a door should be. No swiping of my ID could get me past its secure hold.

I wish I could have entered Pupin through campus, but the study room I so adore remains locked, kept away from me, dangled like a carrot of an infinitely long stick. I have never been more desperate than that morning, pulling on the metal handle as if it would somehow respond to my pleas.

Not one but two of the bescaffolded doors to NoCo did not lend themselves to my tugs, and a revolving door refused to yield. I was Sisyphus and my rock was the NoCo doors, keeping me so close yet so far from the Joe coffee I crave.

Even the makerspace, on which I have relied so deeply in these trying times, did not open its doors without a fight. The green sign beckoned “Open” but only one of two deceptive doors lent themselves to movement.

The final frontier, the fuel of midday engineers, and the last beacon of hope in this trying time was the Mudd Blue Java. Alas, I found it silent, dark, and most of all, closed.

All the doors are closed. All the doors are closed. All the doors are closed.

Door via Needpix, roach via Pixabay, and edit via me

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