Ele-e-ele-vator

Had a pretty weird dream last night. I think I should start writing all my weird dreams down.

I was in a wheelchair, so apparently something happened to my walking abilities. I was with two friends and we were having fun going up and down the ramps in some building, right up to the 5th floor or so. It looked like one of Purdue's old buildings. We stopped by lecturers' offices to chat along the way. We were having the time of our lives. Then, we decided to race up; not your conventional style of racing - they decided to put me in the elevator and both of them would rush up the stairs from the third to the fifth floor and see who reaches first. So I got into the tiny elevator, which only fitted me just right. The elevator started moving and lo and behold, it was one of the scariest experiences in my life. It started jerking, but that was okay. The elevator in my dream was one of a kind - it had two strings holding it up and although the floor was metal, I could see through the elevators. Suddenly one string broke and I was in that damn elevator, right in the middle of two doors, hanging by a string that looked like it could break any time.

And like all dreams, I woke up.

What defines me?

My laziness?
The inability to persevere and complete and mission?
The fickleness?

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." Mark Twain