True Beauty

Picture an uncharacteristically beautiful winter day. The sun was shining and the temperatures were nice. I was feeling particularly good that morning so I had put on my favorite blue shirt and my best DI pants (the ones that look like Mr. Rogers donated them). I was running to catch the bus as I normally do but I was also taking the time to appreciate the nice day; sometimes I multi-task. It had been raining all day yesterday so the ground was wet and the air was clean and fresh. As I went running along I caught up to some people who were blocking the sidewalk so I stepped off to the side (I was still running). At that moment I glanced away. It was a bad time to look away. I glanced back just as my foot touched the thick mud that surrounded the sidewalk. My face must have been brilliant as my foot slipped out from under me at lightning speed and I flew into the previously-mentioned fresh air. Almost as brilliant were the faces of those people who lined the very busy street, though I myself did not witness their faces due to my intense concentration on the art of flying.

I landed flat on my back in the biggest mud puddle I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I layed there for a brief moment trying to soak in the thing that had just happened. I was now covered in mud from my white tennis shoes all the way to my hat. Due to the skid motion produced by my running pace, I plastered my jacket, sweater, shirt, and undergarments in mud. Only my socks survived the crash landing. Think about that for a moment.

The person who stops to pull me up is none other than a school bus driver with his bright yellow school bus. Perfect. He asked me if I was on my way to high school (I am 23 but I still look 16). Bless his heart, he managed to keep a straight face even when I couldn't. He helped me wipe some of the mud off and then went to tell the great story to his friends while the subject was still in view (subject = me). Also, I made sure I didn't show the back side of me when I stopped a taxi to take me home. The taxi driver put a piece of cardboard down on the seat so I wouldn't dirty his car, but he still put on a semi-disgusted face.

I am currently grateful for Marjorie Pay Hinckley who said "the only way to get through life is to laugh your way through it. You either have to laugh or cry. I prefer to laugh. Crying gives me a headache." It is also comforting that I will probably never see anybody on that street ever again. Silver lining: the freshly cleaned lab coat in my backpack remained untouched through it all.