Monday night I returned home to Bingham Hall after Seder at Slifka. My stomach kind of hurt after too many of the kosher desserts that all taste like really concentrated almond paste, which is to say disgusting. I walked into The Rotunda (is it pretentious to refer to Bingham’s entry as The Rotunda?) and jammed the “up” button for the elevator. No light came on. I clicked it again. No light.

I live on the seventh floor. Cue internal freak out.

I stood in the rotunda for another five minutes and sulked. Then I trekked up. I got into my bed at 8:30 p.m. and didn’t leave it until 9 a.m. the next morning.

48 hours later, the fucking elevator still is not fixed. Things Fall Apart–I get that. And I’m thankful to have an elevator at all. But seven flights is a lot of flights, especially for a non-StairMaster like myself. Please fix it?

TrumLove,

Lara