Today brought the dawn of the much dreaded annual music festival. In other words a slow, most painful death for all of us innocent beings involved.
The entire day, from dawn until dusk, consisted of our high school band performing and observing other performances. It was dull, to be quite generous. There were a series of performances and breaks situated between them, which gave us barely enough time to consume meals and tune before we were thrust on stage again and expected to perform.
During one of our intermittent breaks, a friend wished to show me her mother’s graduation picture, as we were at the high school that her mother attended. I agreed solely out of boredom, not because I particularly desired to view the picture. We ascended the staircase to the upper level of the school, only to discover that the upstairs was locked. We shrugged and then descended the staircase to return to our band room, as we had a performance very soon following. As we attempted to enter the main floor, we discovered that that door was locked too. Oh. My. Gawd.
I could FEEL the oxygen supply slowly perish into the ether. The walls started to close in. I began to hyperventilate, anxious that we were going to miss our performance… if we were even lucky enough to escape with our lives. I WAS IN SURVIVAL MODE.
And then I soon realized that I was supposed to pull the door, not push.