Please Pet The Building.

Before I left home for Grenada, I had to have a visit with my Internist to complete the health forms required by SGU. During my physical, she felt the need to reminisce about her days in medical school and how horribly it all started off.

She hated it. But, after calling her father and getting the response, “Well, you can’t come home!” and her boyfriend, “I’m not going to marry you” (N.B. for you generation Z people: In her heyday, living together meant that you were married and at that point she had no means to live on her own).

Realizing that she had no secretarial skills or other marketable traits, she called home again for one last plea. This time, the reply came, “Try petting the building. Everyday. Just pet it.”

And so she did.

Every. Day.

Then she picked 5 girls that she decided she would become friends with since being friendless was definitely contributing to her sense of misery. Being the good student, she studied how to approach each one and in a short time, had her 5 pre-selected friends.

Eventually, she grew content with her routine of petting the building, sitting in lecture for 8 hours, studying for 10 hours or so immediately following the 8 hours of lectures, and occasionally interjecting a conversation with one or several of her 5 friends.

Why am I telling you this story now?

Because I think I need to pet the building.