I am Going to Live in a Box

I went to the ladies room, where upon I found myself unable to open the stall door after completion of my task. I actually became somewhat panicked because


1) I would have to be in there until someone came and helped me, which of course would be someone that would hugely embarrass me, probably like a director or something. I would be considered an imbecile and probably laid off as soon as possible. Then I would lose my house, and have to live in a box.

2) I would have to crawl out under the door, which would result in ruining my dress clothes, at the least. I would without a doubt get some form of hepatitis. And I would be definitely spotted crawling on the floor by my coworkers, who would have to report my insane behavior and I would be ‘allowed’ to leave for medical reasons. Then I would have everything I own repossessed, sold at auction, and have to live in a box.

3) I would completely have a melt down because I would flash back to my childhood, when at about 4 or 5 – it was Christmas morning and my door was stuck and I could not get out and they could not bust open the door because I would not get out of the way. I was in hysterics and obviously severely traumatized because at this moment I am about to have the same reaction. And start screaming and crying about Santa and gifts and help me help me. Which would show that I am having a mental breakdown, and when I get out of the institution I will have lost all my family because of their humiliation and I will have to live in a box.



Then I reached over and turned the lock the other way and let myself out. Sometimes I just over react.