International Rules makes me laugh

One of the four lift control panels scattered among the six lifts on my floor has it's "down" light jammed permanently on.
Some days, usually Fridays, I know how it feels. Stuck there in plain sight looking like it's busy, but really just doomed to wait indefinitely for a trip to the ground floor that never comes. Well, ok, it does come eventually. At around 5pm usually - unless it's POETS day. It was today. Today I was fucking Shakespeare.

I was particularly keen to vacate because my prerogative was gym this evening. I haven't been there much lately and I think my body gets accustomed to moving heavy shit around regularly, and when I don't it stores that energy as bound up tension that escalates into a need for 'push metal above head'.

When it comes to stress relief gym exercise differs to basketball, which is what keeps me from getting to the gym as much as I used to lately. At basketball you have to talk up and use team strategies. At the gym you say "Hi" at the front desk then just stare blankly at your reflection for two hours in silence. Internally you choose some heavy thing and start pushing or pulling or lifting it but not a single word needs uttering until you get back to your car and sing every word you do and don't know to every song you hear and drink an Up&Go.