I was almost done when our retiring director came flying down the hall to tell us all that we had to move out of the building--it had been condemned (or something). We have a week to get all our stuff out. The same week we have final exams, final evaluations, and graduation.
The plant ops guy was around again today to check the temperature in our office. It is a very comfortable 71 degrees, now that the air conditioning is working. It was the repair of the air conditioning in my office that led to the water leak across the hall, which led to damage that made the roof unstable, which led to the building now being declared uninhabitable. Since the building was slated to be torn down next year, the powers that be decided that there was no point in fixing it, and that it was unsafe, so we have to move.
In a week. They are providing us ten boxes each to pack up our stuff.
I killed the nursing building. Like trying to relieve the discomfort for a little old lady with cancer, in intractable pain, my final call to plant ops to complain about the air conditioning was the morphine shot that did it in.
We are moving to the portable buildings that used to house the photojournalism program where I took classes and was the photo editor for the school newspaper 12 years ago.
Bye-bye Mohr Hall.