The Journey

It's about 10:45 and class is about to be let out. All the students wait in anticipation as Prof. Michael Clark ends his lecture on creative non-fiction writing, and although I find it a very interesting subject, lunch is consuming my mind, and has been taking up a great deal of thinking space since the beginning of class. My body craves for nourishment, my mind begins to wander as I hallucinate a big juicy burger in the distance, with cheese melting from its sides. I reach out and try to take it, but my hand simply goes right through, as though I'm watching a 3D film in a movie theater. For the most part, I detest 3D films and how they're being reduced to nothing but crowd pleasing spectacles for people with short attention spans, but for this burger I was making an exception. The downside to this exception was that the burger was just as unreal and disappointing as one of those 3D excuses for a 15 dollar movie ticket. As I was just about to pass out of my mind, I hear the rustling movement of an anxious and restless group of students throughout the classroom. Everyone has begun to gather their things. This was my cue to dash out of there and make my way to the lunch line as quickly as possible.

At this point I'm not thinking straight. The only thing that's on my mind is lunch, and making it to my dorm room just in time to finish some unfinished homework, as is my daily Tuesday and Thursday routine. I see caf lane ahead of me; a rather busy part of campus around this hour, and a great multitude of students are rushing through it, like a heavy river current. At this point I can't even see the other side of the path way, which is my preferred destination if I ever plan on making it to the caf (short for cafeteria: its a PLNU thing) before everyone else does. I take a deep breath and attempt to plunge through the human Nile river, but the same thing happens to me every time I step out of writing class; I trip off a hanging ledge on the curb created by a conveniently placed storm drain. I should already know it is there by now, but I never seem to remember, especially at a desperate time like this. I shrug off the frustration and attempt the perilous feat once more. Bodies crash into me, apologies come flying from all directions, and I'm almost there. My life flashed before my eyes, but then it flashed back to a tasty chicken Cesar wrap (A routine lunch for me on this particular day of the week, but it never fails to satisfy). Up the stairs I climb, as if trekking to the peak of mount Everest. As I'm reaching the top of the stairs, and gasping for breathe (because there's less oxygen up here, or something, right?) I spot the usual freshman line spanning at least a mile and a half outside the cafeteria door. I make my way to the entrance where the smart people wait in the significantly shorter line for a "to-go" lunch (I was pretty mad when I found out that this new method of lunch distribution existed last semester...and I never knew).

I always dread coming face-to-face with the "to-go" lunch lady, who never seems to be in a pleasant mood. But hey, lunch is lunch, and I wanted it, no matter how big an attitude I had to go up against with this lady. I snag a chicken wrap, an apple, and a water, and realized this was only the first half of my journey. I still had to cross campus in order to get to my dorm room, which in retrospect always feels like walking to another country. I began my long walk and hoped not to run into anyone I knew, I just wanted to reach my destination as soon as possible. I made it through caf lane ok without being spotted, and eventually reached "the stairs". Everytime I have to climb down these stairs I think of Gollum and the Hobbits from The Lord of The Rings, and the stairway that led all the way the mouth of the cave which housed Shelob, a spider approximately the size of my Dad's Ford F-250. I'm almost reaching my destination, I don't want to have to deal with a giant spider (or something like it...metaphorical or literal) getting in my way. Who knows, there are a lot of trees going down this stairpath, I once ran into an full grown opossum, I wouldn't be surprised if a chupacabras popped out of nowhere in front of me. Luckily I crossed the treacherous "stairs of doom" unharmed. A few more days of sailing across a sea of black pavement, and dodging a couple of potentially life threatening student driven vehicular transports traveling at warp speed, I make it to my room, and enjoy a well deserved feast of less than epic proportion. I was happy. That's all I needed to make it through the rest of my day. My journey taught me at least one thing, or rather it put me into the perspective of one of literatures most well-known heroes, Odysseus. I conquered all the perils I faced as I made my way to the mother land, I didn't allow any sirens to stand in my way, to prevent me from reaching my goal, and I did it all with the tenacity of a broke and passionate (or should I change that phrasing to forcefully imaginative and overdramatic?) college student.