Just a quick update. I had some larger boxes to take to the trash (that recent move), so I can't very well clog up the trash chute w/ such bulk. Soooo, I have to take the trash downstairs manually. This requires an elevator pass-by of the 3rd floor parking garage. I've made a decision to carry a small pistol with me; even when I'm not leaving the building...now that I know we have this infestation (I hope that doesn't offend him). Anyway, I have a pair of pants which I like to wear around the house; for comfort and ease of movement (GREAT sleeping gear). I've donned them my "Sarah Polley Pants"; in honor of the character "Ana" she played in the 2004 remake of Dawn of the Dead. (I still find it odd that something so beyond the realm of reality has now come to be. Life imitating art, I guess). The wearing of the said pants has now become somewhat of a superstitious tradition (as she survived the initial zombie onslaught; so then, will I). When my Mr. purchased them for me, and I first pulled them up over my legs, I had a sense-memory moment...they looked and what I believed FELT like the pants which "Ana" had worn in the aforementioned film. Thus, the name was born. I really don't know WHAT I'll do when they are eventually worn out and must be taken to that very same trash chute I now cannot use.
At any rate, back to the story. I boarded the elevator; pressed floor 1, and immediately was underway. Well, to my surprise, the elevator slowed; and then STOPPED at floor 3. Of course, I was TERRIFIED. I had my pistol at the ready, and the door slid open. I closed my eyes and pointed the gun.
Nothing.
No one.
I have a feeling our friend on the 3rd floor is trying to send a message...or perhaps play a game. Although I don't have a clue as to how he would have known I was making my way downstairs.
Unless...of course...
No, I'm quite certain he's only ever been on the 3rd floor.
There's definitely more to this story. I'll have more info when I head to work tomorrow.
Later.
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