JUST A LITTLE LATE
When you cry twice on your birthday and feel good about it, there's either something wrong or something very right.
Tiffany and I drove out to Starbucks this morning to get some work done for finals, and I pretty much went kicking and screaming. Except not literally. Grumbling under my breath about how stressed out studying makes me, my thoughts were so far from where they are now. But after three or so hours of trudging through chemical reactions and reagents, we decided to ditch. We then drove out to Walgreen's to get some errands out of the way, and I indulged my useless makeup needs, spending far more than anyone should on eyeliner, eye shadow, and foundation. My excuse? "It's all so pretty!"
On the way back to Rhodes, we see a homeless man holding up a sign reading "visions of a cheese burger." Tiffany had mentioned the guy earlier this week with the intention of actually going out to Burger King for him one day, and since both of are pretty much bleeding hearts, we were freaking excited to do it today. We start driving towards Poplar Ave, and it hits me. I just spent forty dollars on NOTHING. Tiffany answers back with "Yeah, that'd buy you forty burgers," and of course I just start bawling. I couldn't speak for a good while before composing myself with several I'm good's. I wasn't good - not even remotely, but I recovered, both of us concentrating on the task at hand and wondering if he'd like fries too.
After twenty five minutes of driving and waiting for our order at the drive through window, we turn around to Saint Copper to give him the two burgers and a medium helping of fries. He's not there.
Waste of time?
No, because life doesn't fucking work that way. You can't buy a couple of cheese burgers and help someone out ONCE and then go about feeling like a saint, like you've paid your debt to society. Not to say you shouldn't do said good deed (because Tiffany and I will try our damndest to get that man his cheese burger), but just thinking about how self satisfied I might have felt had he actually been there...it's just nauseating.
I won't be that person. I won't live in a fucking suburb, secluded from reality and think that other, greater men will find a solution to poverty without actually lifting a finger myself.
This is my definition of a good day. When God teaches you a lesson you never expected to learn.
Tiffany and I drove out to Starbucks this morning to get some work done for finals, and I pretty much went kicking and screaming. Except not literally. Grumbling under my breath about how stressed out studying makes me, my thoughts were so far from where they are now. But after three or so hours of trudging through chemical reactions and reagents, we decided to ditch. We then drove out to Walgreen's to get some errands out of the way, and I indulged my useless makeup needs, spending far more than anyone should on eyeliner, eye shadow, and foundation. My excuse? "It's all so pretty!"
On the way back to Rhodes, we see a homeless man holding up a sign reading "visions of a cheese burger." Tiffany had mentioned the guy earlier this week with the intention of actually going out to Burger King for him one day, and since both of are pretty much bleeding hearts, we were freaking excited to do it today. We start driving towards Poplar Ave, and it hits me. I just spent forty dollars on NOTHING. Tiffany answers back with "Yeah, that'd buy you forty burgers," and of course I just start bawling. I couldn't speak for a good while before composing myself with several I'm good's. I wasn't good - not even remotely, but I recovered, both of us concentrating on the task at hand and wondering if he'd like fries too.
After twenty five minutes of driving and waiting for our order at the drive through window, we turn around to Saint Copper to give him the two burgers and a medium helping of fries. He's not there.
Waste of time?
No, because life doesn't fucking work that way. You can't buy a couple of cheese burgers and help someone out ONCE and then go about feeling like a saint, like you've paid your debt to society. Not to say you shouldn't do said good deed (because Tiffany and I will try our damndest to get that man his cheese burger), but just thinking about how self satisfied I might have felt had he actually been there...it's just nauseating.
I won't be that person. I won't live in a fucking suburb, secluded from reality and think that other, greater men will find a solution to poverty without actually lifting a finger myself.
This is my definition of a good day. When God teaches you a lesson you never expected to learn.