...in which my brain works funny (iii).
So I took everyone's timecards over to payroll today, first thing when I got to work. I walked across campus to Old Main, went in through the basement door by the mailroom, to the elevator, and up to the second floor.
I don't like elevators. I'm not claustrophobic or anything; I just really hate an elevator. But as a concession to my smoking, these days I usually take the elevator if I have to go up more than two flights of stairs. It saves my breath, but it makes me unhappy and I'm in kind of a hurry for the ride to be over.
So, I get on the elevator reluctantly and push the button for the second floor. A few seconds later the doors open and a woman steps on, and I step off. I turn right, and Payroll should be right across the hall, but it's not. The Registrar's office is where Payroll is supposed to be. It's the first day back after break, and I'm thinking, "Oh my God, they moved all the offices around over the break!"
It takes me a moment to realize that I'm actually on the first floor. Just to be sure, I stop someone walking down the hall and ask, "What floor am I on?"
"Well, the first floor, of course," she says, and looks at me funny as she walks on by.
So, okay, I got off the elevator too early. Thing is, this is not the first time I've done this. I always do this. If I'm going up and the elevator stops to let someone else on, I assume I've reached my floor and get off, and then I'm lost. Why can't I ever pay attention to what floor I'm actually on? Is this a sign of some rare and alarming cognitive disorder? Are the floors between origin and destination just disappearing from my consciousness? Or am I so oblivious to other people that the idea that someone else might have plans that don't match mine just never occurs to me?
I don't know. I'm not a psychologist. All I know is, it's aggravating as shit.