Fourth floor

This morning as I came in the building, you were the only one waiting for the elevator, and I had to make the split-second decision to ride the elevator with you instead of walking up three flights of stairs. God punished me for my sloth by making me have to hear about you pitching your script before 10 AM. I had thought that maybe pre-coffee, the words "new media soap opera" wouldn't give rise to as much fury inside of me, but I was wrong.