The newspaper is really bringing me down right now. Each page is full of tragedy, crime and scandals. Every time I turn the page, I just seem to get more nervous, angry or depressed – even the comics are serious lately.
Add it to midterms, and I am really close to a breaking point; the world is just a tough place right now, and I have to tell you, I need a break from it all.
My bet is you do too, judging by the faces and attitudes I have been seeing around campus; people walking around like tired robots, mumbling about tragedy or equations for their next test.
For me, one of the saving graces in my life is, and always has been, my friends. Whenever I need a break or a good laugh, my buddies never seem to fail to give me one. Hopefully, their antics will serve to give you the same break they gave me this past week.
Skeeter and Striker, my two roommates, have also been stressed out. At my house, when we get stressed, we all seem to feel the need to throw something. Normally a ball of some sort, but if there isn't one handy, we will make do with just about anything – socks, cups, the occasional house cat – really, whatever is easiest.
One night, we all converged in the kitchen and started talking. Striker was in the middle of baking muffins (wearing a masculine combination of Under Armor and an apron), and Skeeter was eating something. Side note: Skeeter's second nickname is Slim Fast Shamu, because the kid is built like spaghetti, yet he consumes more food than Sea World's most famous attraction.
Anyway, we started to toss a racquetball around the room while we talked. This went on without incident for about five minutes, until Striker's muffins were done, and he turned to remove them from the oven. Skeeter, deeply involved in a ham sandwich, did not notice Striker had turned away and gunned the ball at him, hitting him right in his muffins. Turns out, Striker should add a jock strap to his man-semble of Under Armor and apron.
As Striker began to yelp in pain, the ball took an amazing bounce that defied all physics, and spun back into the oven. We now had one of the funniest scenarios you could dream up: Striker on the ground, clutching his "baked goods" and a burning racquetball in the oven, rapidly becoming more and more flammable. Striker, in pain, could only mutter these words: "Dude, what the – oh god – ball – burning – help – someone – please!"
I must be honest here: Skeeter and I were paralyzed with laughter, and we literally could not move toward the oven, leaving the injured Striker to save his muffins from the now flaming ball of destruction that was once a racquetball.
He managed to crawl to the oven door, and reach in with a pair of tongs he keeps holstered on the stove for such an occasion. Taking the tongs, he tossed the flamb'ed ball into the sink and turned on the water. Crisis was averted, and Striker's muffins came out of the oven unharmed, outside of a slight plastic aftertaste.
It's moments like this that make life worth living. Yes, we have work, and yes there is tragedy, but life is made up of the moments in between, with friends laughing and enjoying each other's company. I hope my friends and I were able to give you a break from the grind today because, in my opinion, that's what life is all about.