My Personal Hell…

As many have learned, I am not the biggest track fan in the world. I have grown accustomed to it over the past two years since my job revolves around it, but it still is not my favorite sport in the world.

So, it is inevitable that I would be the one put in charge of state track, the largest track meet in the nation.

Last year was my first year to be apart of this spectacle and I learned quickly how large this thing really is. After one year, I decided that it was my version of hell.

Eight to ten-year-old workers, oldest (and smelliest) pressbox in the world, grumpy newspaper writers…and now, to add to that fun stuff, the broken elevator. I’m not sure if any of you have seen Cessna Stadium, where the meet is held, but it is very, very large and very, very steep. So, now that the elevator is broken, everyone that wants to be in the pressbox must take the hike up the stadium stairs, and through the pressbox stairs (that has dead birds in the corridors and smells like urine) to get to the pressbox. It two words, IT BLOWS.

But this is how I will end my two years at Wichita State…state track, dead birds, urine and broken elevators.

What a way to go, eh?



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2 responses to “My Personal Hell…

  1. TransplantedOkie

    Wow – that pretty much sucks. But soon you will be an Okie and life will be soooo much better. Birds will follow you singing, flowers will open as you pass by, and dwarves will do your bidding.

    OK – wait.

    Oh sorry. Got living in Oklahoma confused with Snow White and it is actually NOTHING like that. My bad.

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