Thursday, January 14, 2010

A Day in the Life

I have to laugh at myself. The first week of Spring semester and I arrived - for the first time in my history - late to class. I never intended to be a bad student. But I made a choice, and I do not regret my decision.

I had arranged to meet a dear friend of mine for coffee at a local McDonald's. She was getting ready to return to school, and the two of us had so much to catch up on that a phone conversation simply wouldn't cut it. Our countenances lit up when we greeted each other, and we fell into conversation with ease. Our friendship is beautiful, for we picked right up where we left off. We shared stories, events, hopes, and talked about our lives, listening earnestly and talking in turn.

When I glanced down at my watch, I realized with dismay that our meeting would have to come to an end if I was to make it to class on time. Embracing each other one last time, and promising to call throughout our semester, we both took our leave.


As luck would have it, I hit every single red light. Or so it seemed. When I finally reached campus, I had less than twenty minutes to find a parking spot and get to my classroom. Like that was going to happen.

Parking is one of those issues that is rarely discussed on my college campus. Everyone, students and faculty alike, deal with the frustrating problem of limited available spaces. But it is a touchy subject. It is actually kind of like the lottery. Sometimes, by random chance, you happen to luck out and get a terrific spot just as someone is vacating the lot. But most of the time, you end up circling lot after lot, making your way down the campus, searching for a place to park your vehicle, and all the while, precious mintues pass by making you later and later to class.

As it so happened on this fateful day, I was one of those luckless students. I parked a mile away from my class. And then I rushed off as fast as I could to the opposite end of the campus. Sweating in the cold. With my weighted down pack bumping against my back, dragging me down. I had 15 minutes to walk over a mile.

I arrived 3 minutes late. Disheveled, breathing short breaths, both hot and cold. I must have been quite the sight. But I was thankful to have made it.

I hope never to repeat this incident. And yet, at the same time, I think I would risk it all again if it meant spending time developing a meaningful relationship. Because, in the long run, what is more important: that I was a couple minutes late to class, or that I invested in a special friendship? I believe that people are more important than things. And that is why I do not regret my decision.

That being said, I slept hard when I got home. Really, really hard. My legs felt as though they were stretched to their limit. And I had to smile. I even laughed. Because you know what? I need the exercise. I am going snowboarding this weekend. My muscles can use the stretching. Ahhhh, life is good.

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