Opening
I’ve had this problem with the automatic doors of the WashU art library.
They don’t always open for me.
I pretend not to notice and just keep walking, slowing my pace as I approach. I don’t stop on principal; I will not be broken by the door. Closer… closer… and then, just as my nose is about to hit glass, they reluctantly slide apart. I grew to have something of a complex.
So there I was, the first two papers of my graduate school career clutched in hand, staring at the library doors, willing them to open. Closer… closer… oh, crap. I had to stop. Just for a split second, but enough for the door to realize I was there and open condescendingly.
I just hope that my professors disagree with the door and find more substance in my papers.