COLUMN: A tip worth living by
“Find joy in the journey.”
That’s what I’ve always heard. Every parent, friend, mentor, wise man, Elvis impersonator and contracting carpenter felt like they had the ultimate life tip when it came to collegiate education. Somehow, these five words seemed to encapsulate to all of my wellness coaches just what would make my time as a work-ridden student worth its while.
Now, I don’t mean to demean this individuals. They’ve been through the travail of study life themselves, and their advice comes from sound experience.
That being said, having shared a near half-decade of experience myself, I truly wish they would have given me advice that I really needed to hear – the snippets of wisdom that nobody felt the need to think of when “heart to heart time” spawned. Stuff like “manage your finances,” or “avoid karma by double-tipping,” or “stay clear of girls who watch any show that includes three people – one British, one metrosexual and one possibly both – who have a ‘deliberation period.'”
Above all, there are the even more truth-specific life tips, and one comes to mind after this weekend.
“On certain weekends, plan on only having a loaf of bread.”
Sunday came about a lot more painstaking than I originally anticipated. It was a busy afternoon full of responsibilities – “responsibilities” in this case translating to “Wikipedia-searching the career of the guy who played Cody on ‘Step by Step.'” The last thing on my list was to procure nutrition.
As was made evident by my obviously overstated foreshadowing, this was a huge mistake.
I rummaged through every belonging in every room I could legally search – that includes bathrooms, stop staring – and there was quite literally only one thing I could even consider eating, a singular, four-day-old loaf of wheat bread.
OK, so I also had a 36-pack of Pepsi and some garlic powder from the one time I’ve made pasta in the last three years, but those are a given – like water and baking powder but they taste less like formaldehyde.
Now, in many cases, the only-has-bread scenario can be dealt with. You don’t come this far in college and not learn the value of cutting your losses and moving on. But here’s the real issue: it was Great Value wheat bread, the generic, non-personalized-stationery-for-a-birthday-gift level of bread – what I like to call “inflatable cat litter.”
I couldn’t expect to live on bread alone – See what I did there? – and with my roommates all out of town, I had to get as creative as possible. Following much deliberation – “deliberation” in this case translating to “finding clips of the guy who played Cody on ‘Step by Step’ in ‘Kickboxer 2: The Road Back'” – I realized my plan of action was case of desperation, and I had to find in me the mentality of the most desperate kind of people I could conjure: door-to-door pest control salesman.
No, I wasn’t in some remote Southern city, and it was summertime and this sandwich never promised me “getting through my college experience with financial freedom,” but it promised to be effective and hey, if I cut the sandwich diagonally, the sandwich itself would form two pyramid schemes, so same difference.
I began knocking on doors as furiously as I had the gumption. Most people were elsewhere for fall break, but I was determined. Like a seasoned salesman, I approached them warmly and promised them a long future of customer loyalty and fiscal pleasure if they but simply donate their topping and condiment efforts to my sandwich fund, all centered around my motto: “Anything Will Do That Isn’t Hummus.”
I returned home with my spoils from three separate apartments: a small baggie of ranch dressing, two slices of what might have been expired ham and a half-used can of cheese whiz. I wish I was kidding.
It wasn’t sexy, unless you are privy to cuisine akin to 1970s food storage in a shoebox, but it was my dinner. I earned it, I procured it and that was something to be proud of. And though I wouldn’t have shared it with the savvy likes of Sasha Mitchell – yep, the guy who played Cody on “Step by Step” – it was worth my getting by today and through to tomorrow.
And that, my friends, is a life tip worth living by.