The Dust of Hallways Past

I started sneezing this morning at work. That's not unheard-of for me to do, of course. Our office is in an old building and pieces of the ceiling frequently fall on the desks, so you know there's going to be some dust. And some sneezing.

Today, however, my one sneeze turned into multiple. And they each happened just as I was relaxing from the last one. It was, to say the least, a bit annoying. Especially since I thought I was done with my spring allergies.

Then, around lunchtime, I walked out into the hallway to go downstairs to get the office mail, and noticed that there was a pale white haze in the air. Apparently the office space across the hall from us (which has been getting renovated for a while) is now in the drywalling and pre-painting stage. So they are creating clouds of drywall dust, which is filtering into the rest of the building. Hence the sneezing.

Relieved to have figured that out (and, yet, a little perturbed by the lack of safety ventilation), I went about my business. When I walked back out of the stairwell from gathering the mail I walked into the warmer end of the hallway, where the sunlight actually heats up the space and the air conditioning doesn't do as well. And I smelled something familiar.

It took a moment to realize what it was. There was the warm dust, and the old building, and - somewhere in the background - a little bit of fresh paint. And I was - for that split second - walking into one of the school buildings in my home town. I think that the first thing to come to mind was walking from the old part of the elementary school into the addition (which was added on while I was in school there). It was the scent of the old and new mixing in the warmth of the summer. It was how the schools smelled at the end of one schoolyear and the beginning of the next.

I paused for a moment in the middle of my not-so-wonderful day and tried to breathe it in. To recapture that feeling. The excitement and promise of those old hallways at the start of the schoolyear when they were fresh and clean, yet filled with that slightly warm and dusty aroma of old buildings.

Then, as quickly as it came, it was gone. The hallway was filled with drywall dust. And I was headed back to my desk where the ceiling falls from time to time, with no recess to look forward to.