Boom.

So there I am, 6th floor at work, just after 5AM. I've got a luggage cart full of the Sunday New York Times. Even on wheels it's heavy. I think that paper is priced a dollar a pound. For real. 70 papers in total. How there can possibly be that much news every week, I have no idea. I think they probably make some stuff up. Anyway, I'm waiting for the elevator, so I can put the papers out of the 5th floor. Ding. I pull of the end of the cart that turns so I can get it in the elevator, only it doesnt turn. The weight is too much for cheap wheels, and they just stand still, solid as an iceberg. The cart tips as I pull it towards me, and 7o gigantic cruiseship sized newspapers sink abrupty to the floor. I hear the voices of those still awake go quiet, and I think, "FUCK. That was loud." I open my mouth and scream silently in anger, waving my hands frantically in frustration, struggling to keep my sense afloat enough to keep quite. All I can think about is the pain in the ass it's going to be to rescue all these stranded papers. Sunday news sucks.