Instant Karma

Instant Karma's gonna get you
Gonna knock you off your feet
Better recognize your brothers
Everyone you meet...


Not much has been going on lately, beside somehow everything in the world going wrong yesterday. No big deal. The way I see it, every dog has it's day. My friend Alex and I reasoned our way through this cliche a few years back. Here's the logic: if every dog has it's day, then everyone in the world has one day in their lifetime where everything is absolutely perfect. You only get one, though, so it would logically follow that every day (except that one) has minor imperfections. You lose your keys. You get stuck in traffic. You're unprepared for an exam. You say something that pisses someone off. You spill your coffee all over your work clothes. These minor imperfections are just that, minor. But somehow, when they all add up, they have a way of really pulling you down.

Enter Tuesday morning. It seems like every 5 minutes, some new responsibility or task rears its ugly head, demanding something from me. Yet somehow, it all seems so distant as I'm lying in bed waiting to start the day, so I'm not too worried. I reluctantly pull myself out of bed to go to Chicano Studies. Outside class, I run into Sarah, a friend of mine from my sorority and an all-around fantastic human being. She asks me how my day is going, seeing the stress exuding from my every pore even though I couldn't. I give her the rundown of my crazy week and she offers to buy me coffee, which I completely would have accepted if I wasn't on my way to class. Damn. I had my priorities out of order -- coffee above all else. Next time. Anyway, I wasn't stressed until I told someone else my to-do list, at which point I nearly had a panic attack.

Then the rain started. And thunder. And hail. Textbooks, flashcards, and notes scattered all around me, I frantically studied for my exams, but all I could think was "I have to go back to campus in like an HOUR in that storm." Cool. Got to campus and to my review session, rain stops. Perfect timing (ugh). Review session was utterly useless. Fantastic. Sex midterm was easy-pants, so that was at least one good thing. People were talking through my favorite show as I was trying to unwind from a long day. Annoying. Stayed up until 1am trying to get my million and a half assignments done so I could not go through this whole stressful ordeal the next day.

Wednesday. Woke up, rocked midterm. No big deal. You know your test is awesome when one of the questions starts with "You are currently taking dilaudid for chronic back pain, and you go out drinking with your friends..." and when you are expected to know things like the differences between west coast heroin and east coast heroin. Quite an interesting start to a Wednesday, I'd say.

I proceeded to Freeborn Hall for the campus blood drive. I try to donate every time there is a blood drive on campus because I have a rare blood type (AB+. What's up, universal recipient!) and because I know people whose lives have been saved by blood transfusions. I have plenty of blood flowin' around in there to give up a little bit for someone who needs it. Also, it's karma. You never know when it might come around. I was always taught by my parents that doing right by and for others is the highest good you can do.  As I'm waiting in line and trying to do right by others by giving up my precious hemoglobin, I accidentally sit down where I'm not supposed to, and four very vocal students snarl "Actually, the end of the line is on the other side." Good lord, people, take a chill pill (Valium is supposed to be a very effective anxiety-reliever). I sit down at the end of the line where I've been banished and a nice boy says to me "That'll teach you to try and sit down there." Hearing the sarcasm in his voice, I knew I had found a new friend.

The nice boy was Bobby from Yosemite. We chatted for awhile about school (he is currently managing his company), career aspirations (he used to fancy the idea of being a doctor and living a classy lifestyle until he realized he'd spend all his time at work and never have time to enjoy his money), donating blood, hometowns (he's from a very romantic little mountain town) and holiday parades. There was absolutely nothing about this boy that was particularly remarkable. He was a normal guy with a quirky air about him and a friendly disposition. But for whatever reason, Bobby made my day. I didn't catch a last name, nor did I see him after we parted ways to have our blood pressures read and fingers pricked, but he stuck with me. In a 5 minute conversation with a perfect stranger, I felt relieved of my stressors. And then they poked a giant needle into my vein and I kind of remembered them again. I made friends with the phlebotomist while she was taking my blood. It's okay though, I let her have it.

I always used to think it was a little weird when people would just strike up a conversation with random strangers. But like John Lennon so astutely pointed out, everyone you meet is your brother because we are all a part of this world together. I don't know. Sometimes it takes a perfect stranger to make you realize things like that! So thank you, Bobby. Instant Karma, man. And now I'm all kinds of tired because I have significantly less blood in me than I did at noon. I'll find another mundane story in the next few days to write about, I'm sure. This blogging thing is way too fun! Until next time :)