A psychotic man broke into the building. It happened just before dawn. He thought he was being pursued.

In terror, he climbed the fire escape to the second floor, broke a window to an empty office, busted out of the office and ran down the hall to our side of the building, where he tried busting down my door and one of the conference room doors before he found purchase in the second conference room door. Once inside, he used the conference room furniture to barricade himself in, and then, when he felt safe, he called the cops.

When I arrived, the shards of the shattered door jamb and one slightly moved desk showed that someone had broken in. I thought it was theft. I called administrators and the cops. Called the cops two more times—they wouldn't come over until the director was present.

When the officer finally showed up, she told us all about it. I wondered why they couldn't have told me over the phone that they had apprehended the person, or why no one had left us a note. In any case, I guess it took them awhile to get the guy out. He had a hard time distinguishing between the police and his pursuers. When he finally decided to emerge, he admitted to missing his medication.

The people in the lab commented on the irony of the man seeking harbor in a mental health clinic, but it's a flimsy joke. There are so many mental health clinics in the immediate area that he probably had about a 50% chance of breaking into a clinic, some of them more appropriate for his condition than ours.