Speaking of doom, earlier I was pondering my fear of revolving doors. Like most things, I’m not terribly secretive about this fear. Ok, maybe it’s not a fear. More like apprehension. And I discovered (surprise surprise) that I’m not alone in this. But I don’t fear that aliens will abduct me via revolving doors. Nor do I think they are inherently evil. Nor is it necessarily the fear of death and dismemberment. Or the fear of small places (though I guess I am a wee bit claustrophobic). My fear is of making myself vulnerable. It’s rooted in primal survival instincts. To me, walking into a set of revolving doors seems too much like walking into a trap. Allowing oneself to be boxed into a little compartment, at the mercy of complete strangers. Or worse yet, at the mercy of malicious foes. Do I have issues? You don’t know the half of it. So I habitually avoid revolving doors. I have a well-established routine that kicks in when I am faced with using them vs. going well out of my way to get around them. I will scope out my surroundings and wait until no one else is near said doors before pushing through them as quickly as possible. And yes, I have similar issues with elevators. But I’ve had to acquiesce on a daily basis…as my office is some 300+ feet aboveground. There are only so many stairs I can climb. But that would make for a great daily workout. Hmmmm.
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