Enjoy Your Juice

What's up readers? I literally could not go all day without blogging. October first; new month, new opportunities. Had a physics test today, I really hope I got 100% on it just so I can cross that off my bucketlist. I'm sure you'll hear about it if I do. Be right back, my hands feel weird I'm going to wash them.

Back. So I bought a think of orange juice at Intermezzo today before class. I decided to get it on a whim just because I wanted to enjoy some juice while sitting through a likely boring RA lecture. So a dollar and nine cents came out of my flex account in order to fund the sudden idea.

So let me tell you a little bit about the girl who works the cashier at Intermezzo on Mondays at around 2:30pm, she is one of those people who's "Happy Thermostat" is set to a trillion. Now I'm a pretty happy being, but this girl's ridiculous. Every Monday it's straight to the point; "Hello! Are you having a good day!? I know it's Monday but I'm still having a good day! I try to be happy and people think I'm crazy but I'M NOT! I swear! I'm sorry I cut you off, are you having a good day!?"

And since I really like happy people and being happy and general, I feed off her positive energy; "Yeah I'm having a great day! I'm almost done with classes so my Monday is almost over! Then I have the whole evening to myself, so yeah I'd say I'm having a great day too!"

And she fucking freaks. I take it she doesn't get many enthusiastic and happy responses to her delightful outbursts of spirit, because once she realizes she's dealing with a fellow optimist she turns it up like ten fold. Now almost screaming, she rebounds, "ME TOO! I mean I'm working but work means money and money means fun!"

At this point I kinda wanted to see how far I could push her; "With that logic Monday's are all fun then right?" I thought this poor girl was gonna blow a blood vessel. Like a puppy being overly-stimulated by it's owner, by then she can really just shake her head real fast and hand me my food.

So yeah that's the Monday cashier at Mezzo. So I walk back up the open lobby stairs to grab some juice and go to the counter for purchase; as per usual the cashier (Claire I believe her name is) have our typical Monday/Funday conversation. Except this time she said a phrase as I walked away that made me really appreciate this girls infectious attitude towards life.

I mean my back was almost completely turned, and I had completed my departure phrase "Have a good one!", and she STILL felt the necessity in adding a quick and hearty "ENJOY YOUR JUICE!!" before I had rounded the corner.

Real talk, most cashiers in the world would not give a single fuck about whether or not I enjoy the juice I paid one dollar and 9 cents for. The buck didn't even come from my wallet, the university paid for it (a humble thumbs up for being an awesome RA); but regardless, this happy youngster had the complete immaculate security to add on those three words while I was still within earshot.

It made me legitimately smile, one of those smiles that you could neither fake nor conceal. And because she spent the second and a half, wasting precious adenosine triphosphate molecules from the millions of cells it must've required her to say those three words; I took a second and a half of my own time, and a similar amount of energy to properly thank her. "Thanks! I will!", I said.

And the reason I felt a thank you was necessary was due to the fact that (knowing me) I will honestly enjoy my orange juice about three times more after her blessing. I am the type of person who is a hub of emotions. Stuff goes in, I process it, and it's outputted. If someone wants to talk, I'll talk. I'll do anything I can to raise the morale of someone and it's likely because I'm a good-hearted, happy human being. Whether I use humor, kindness, or charm, to keep positive emotions lingering about the atmosphere, I'll do it. (The bare reasoning behind most of my idiosyncrasies stems from this. Think about it... palm trees, smiling in pictures, opportunism, this blog).

So when I interact with another person of similar ideals in this field, the system blows up in kindness, charm and happiness. She says something happy and then I say something happy and then she says something happy and it snowballs. And the result of a 30 second conversation is two people who are literally euphoric over fucking orange juice.

I appreciated that simple phrase, "Enjoy your juice!", so much I decided not to even drink it in class. While in the lecture I decided to fully milk the situation by waiting until I get back to the dorm to savor it. So here I am writing this blog in my room about to open up a dollar's worth of orange juice and I STILL have a smile on my face and am all giddy and shit over it.

My point of this 12 paragraph essay about OJ is really that you never know the effects of something as simple as "enjoy your juice" and a happy attitude. I'm sure that girl is still standing at that counter in Mezzo happy as all hell. I highly doubt she expects me to be in my dorm three hours later blogging about her attitude. And it's quite likely that when she asked me to "enjoy my juice" she wasn't doing it for recognition. Yet here I am, enjoying my juice.

So in other news, for being an RA I've had to do room inspections. Which means I've gone into every single room on my floor. Obviously I've already been in all of them, but this time the residents have been living there for a few months. After experiencing what most of my residents live in, it's honestly harder to think of Haggin Hall as a castle.

With the exception of 2-3 rooms, every single room is awful. I'm talking trash piled 4 feet in the air in the corner, the smells range from B.O. to sour mold, and one room had bottles of pee in it. Let me put it this way; I've actually been to a slum in a third world country. The rooms at Haggin Hall are smaller, more crowded, dirtier, and probably contain a higher suicide rate. At least some slums can say they have running water.

Then there's my room; a triple wide, bay windows looking out over downtown, furniture, and no roommate. My room is the Ritz compared to every other room in C-4. So with that being said, I'm treating it as such. Yes every day when I swipe my ID into the building and walk to my room, in my mind I'm walking through the floral wallpapered and carpeted hallways to my suite. I open the door to the sight of my large quarters followed by the graceful smell of my air freshener. Perhaps the only thing that's missing is a swimming pool. But regardless as long as I keep it clean, this room is pretty damn nice.

It all falls under the perks of hard work. Work leads to money and benefits... always. Today's the first of the month, which means I get a lot of money. I should go to an ATM and withdrawal it all, then duffle it back to my room and fill it 5 feet deep with bills.

Then I'll have a swimming pool too. Until next time...