Finding out that I had a bottom locker devastated me. I’ve had a top locker ever since middle school started, which made sense given that I was always tall. But now, a bottom locker? I used to wonder why people got all bent out of shape about having a bottom locker, but after some firsthand experience, I truly realize how much of a hard-knock life it is.

In the morning, getting to my locker is quite an experience. The two seconds it takes for me to ask someone to move from sitting in front of my locker is time that I could spend doing way better activities. It also feels like I’m inconveniencing the person way too much by asking them to move from sitting on the ever-so-comfortable tile floor for less than a minute.

However, the morning is only one of six times each day when I go to my locker. During passing periods and after school, it’s still quite a problem to get there, as I have to take a break from standing for almost a whole minute to get what I need from my locker. Also, I live in a state of perpetual worry that the books and binders I’m shuffling around in my locker will take the 6-inch fall to the floor, and I will have to take another minute out of my day to reorganize them.

One of the worst parts of having a bottom locker, by far, is interacting with people around you who have top lockers. On the off chance that the person whose locker above me is at her locker when I get to mine, I have to wait a whole 30 seconds for them to finish getting her things and move so that I can get to my locker. And whenever I’m at my locker and there’s anyone within three top lockers of me, I constantly fear notebook paper or a copy of the frighteningly large “Of Mice And Men” will fall directly on my head.

So, try having some sympathy when us bottom locker folk complain about our problems. It’s not an easy life, but we power through it so that all of you with top lockers can enjoy your lives of subtle indulgence.