Dr. Darling called me on my way home from the train station on Thursday afternoon to report that the elevator in our building was behaving strangely and suggest that I not use it. And sure enough, when I entered the building I found our 5th floor neighbor’s dog tied to the hand railing of the stairs and Bengt (the neighbor) coming up from the basement.
He said that the elevator was running but would only stop at the basement level and the top floor (which was a good thing for me), and that it could not be summoned from either of those locations…just taken to one or the other. Since Bengt had just ridden it down to the basement (having walked up one flight of stairs in order to do so), it was available for me to take up to the Penthouse Nordic. I thanked him for the tip, asked if had notified the building manager of the problem (he had) and promised to send it back down so that it would (hopefully) be in the basement when he got back from walking the dog.
Naturally the elevator was in the basement when I needed to leave for work Friday morning, so I hiked down the five flights of stairs while saying a little prayer that it would be repaired by the time I got home. NO SUCH LUCK. There was a sign on it saying it was shut-down for repair, which I knew from 8+ years of experience with Swedish customer service would definitely NOT be occurring before my scheduled laundry time at 7 0’clock this morning.
Now I know that climbing six flights of stairs multiple times today is really good for both my heart and helping to reduce the size of my @$$, but thanks to an old yoga injury, walking down them is killing my knees. And as of mid-afternoon, there was still no sign of a technician…which means it’s probably going to be Monday before the elevator is working again. I just hope my knees can make it until then.