By: Kelly Chia, Humour Editor
I’ve had an epiphany so devastating, so special, so simply metamorphic that I must share it with you immediately. We often have small moments in life that feel much bigger than they actually are, almost as though they were extended to force a poetic metaphor through. Well, I can assure you that this realization is not that. It was profound, life-changing, and truly so unique that if I didn’t share it with you now, I would feel guilty. Well, here it is: my life was changed by the wisdom stored in my liquid-storing accoutrement — cups, mugs, glasses — on a humble July afternoon.
Sure, you can laugh, I hear you.“Oh, this is just another long-winded narrative about how a simple event can make you appreciate life!” But this is so much better than that! It’s about appreciating the little things in life, not the big . . . living part. That’s what makes my piece better. Yeah.
Well, let me tell you about the moment, and then you’ll really be able to picture the revelation: I walked into my room to sit down to study, I turned to my right, and I saw my cups. That’s right. They all stored different volumes of liquids, telling different stories. My mug containing a day’s old worth of Earl Grey? That was the story of an attempt to make my hydration habits a bit more classy. Yes, it had been steeped in the wisdom of my attempt to try. Why, only the most noble thing a human being can do. What’s classier than that, you ask?
Take a look at my glass that’s been fully drained. That’s my glass that has water for when I wake up at three in the morning. To me, that represents how I adore myself so much that I make the effort to have the glass available for when I want water, but not so much that I constantly have water in the glass available for when I need it. See, I’m still trying.
Next, you may even be curious enough to peruse my IKEA glasses. Those are cool because they are tinted a turquoise green and a cool blue. They represent my desire for a trip to the beach far away, where I can pour more water on my face.
So you see, it’s not that I’m forgetful. My cups, mugs, and glasses tell a beautiful story: they reveal my desires, my efforts, even my dreams of frolicking at White Rock. I was so thoughtful when it came to myself, I realized. But I also realized how I needed to love myself enough to take them downstairs. Nasty.