and round the tree and through the hole and

In the location in which we were first located when my team first moved to the building in which we currently work I had to pass through twenty doors between the outside and my desk, aided by passing through the car park, going into and out of the stairwell twice, visiting the changing-room in between stairwell-movement and due to there being an extra set of doors between our section and the lifts to prevent the people nearest the lifts from being driven insensible by the constant dinging of lifts arriving and the inane chatter of loudmouths who think that by leaning against a wall and facing in the other direction that they can speak as loudly as they wish into a portable telephone without anyone else overhearing. These doors have since been removed from the floor on which we again find ourselves but my route from outside world to desk still involves either nineteen or eighteen doors, depending on which stairwell I use and on which floor I cross across to the other side of the building. When leaving today my route out was slightly complicated by some form of water-based error whereby the connecting area between the stairwell and the bit where the lifts sit had become somewhat sodden over two floors. I was able to ignore the preventative signage on the way down to the changing room on the way out to lunch but was prevented from then going directly to the car park to adjust some things on my bicycle by some building-management types. Not having used the lifts in this building for three years since we moved desks from the bit with the nice view on the fourth floor to the bit with no view and not wanting to use the lift to go down one floor I then had to go outside, wander round a bit and re-enter the car park from the outside, doing the same thing in the evening to avoid using the lift but walking the slightly quicker other way round the building, knowing that the fag-section would probably be clear at that time of the evening. It's a pity that it is felt necessary to block off the entire corridor when it's the only stairwell currently in use which has access to the car park when people are generally responsible enough to be able to walk across a bit of wet carpet without falling to their deaths, though people should also really be discouraged from using lifts to travel one floor downwards, something too many people seem to want to do even when not prevented from not doing.

I'd sort of assumed the reticent gear-shifts I was experiencing this morning were a function of the rain and large amounts of gunk on the route I took, especially when no shifting at all was possible on the way home after any gunk would have had a chance to cake and dry throughout the day. After a quick poke after getting home the few remaining strands of what turned out to be a mostly-frayed-through gear cable snapped, which at least lets me know what I'll be doing at lunchtime tomorrow.