Why waking up at 7:30 is a Mistake for all face-wearing, racquetball-playing individuals
Today, I got owned by a racquetball. In the face of all places. In the eye, of all faces.
I wish more publishers or journalists or famous people would read these blogs so I could be quoted for being so profound and rhythmic.
I hope you all realize that when I say words like "today," I usually mean sometime other than today. Most of the time, in the past.
For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to take a racquetball class at 8:30 in the morning on Tuesdays and Thursdays.
This is me being optimistic:
"Oh! Racquetball at 8:30 sounds like a good idea... it will wake me up and I'll get some extra weekly physical activity logged! Hooray!"
But now that I've felt the fury of a racquetball, I'm beginning to wonder what made me think such annoying thoughts.
As I watched that tiny blue ball form a path whose endpoint was my eye and, using my danger-induced slow-motion vision, begin to slowly get bigger without deviating from its path, I sincerely wished that a time machine would whisk me away to the moment annoying, optimistic Connor decided to sign up for a racquetball class, so I could punch him in the face. (I suppose that would have achieved the same effect as the racquetball did, but I think you know what I'm trying to say. I also suppose it would be easier to just wish that I had goggles, but whatever.)
You know how, if you make a backwards "C" with your right hand using your thumb and pointer finger (or a normal "C" with your left hand), and you put the "C" up to your right eye (or left eye), you can imagine that you can squish really huge things that are far away with your fingers? Well that's called making the most out of depth perception. Sometimes I use this nifty little trick to squish friends' or annoying peoples' (synonym: choobers') heads when they don't know it, but that's beside the point. ("Were you just trying to squish my head with your fingers?" "Umm... heh... no?")
That ugly blue racquetball decided, then and there, to make use of its ability to influence my depth perception, and as it reached the point in its journey to my face in which it was an inch away from its destination, it became the most unsquishable object in the universe.
My racquet clattered to the floor and I rolled my one good eye and sighed as I lifted my hands up to inspect the damages. Valentine's Day was that weekend and my eye could NOT be black. (I can't wait to introduce you to my girlfriend!)
Eventually, I realized that my adventure that morning wasn't completely bad, because not only did my eye end up staying the same color, but I also have this killer story to tell, although I don't think that it would proceed much farther past "I got owned in the face by a racquetball" in daily conversation.
In retrospect, recalling that scene in which the ball slowly got bigger and bigger until it gleefully bounced of my flinching face is actually pretty enjoyable. I mean, I do remember that occurrence in slow motion, and I've always dreamed of having the ability to slow down time in moments of intense action, and while the action happened TO me rather than WITH me, I still have this feeling that some obnoxious genie is out there somewhere, misinterpreting my wishes and granting them. Not many people have this feeling.
Oh crap.
I just realized:
This is me being optimistic... again.
And I also realized:
"Is this what he was talking about when he said he keeps going on adventures?"
No.
