The lamp wouldn't turn on. I was going to have to help deliver a baby in pitch darkness. With the elevator stuck between floors there was no point in wishing I was elsewhere, rehashing all my steps today that got me into this place, at this time. Yet, this is exactly what I did, in between asking the mother how much time between contractions and holding her hand, speaking calmly and rubbing her back.
First my alarm didn't go off this morning so I was late, then dropped hot coffee over the new rug in the living room, follolwed by leaving the apartment to run for the bus and realising I'd locked myself out.
Arguments at work, being asked to fetch the lunch from the shop instead of it being delivered as usual, and the piece de la resistance - getting into this elevator with a heavily pregnant girl whose waters had just broken.
As I'm thinking all this through, I realise that it's time for the mother to start pushing.
Just as I hear the first cries of the baby, the elevator rumbled and started moving.
The lamp wouldn't turn on.