Hey, it happens.
So, just so you are aware, the college is closed down for Winter Break. This is absolute bliss for me, as I have the studio all to myself. I'll be able to cast metal, or cut wood, or weld, or whatever, without the distraction and interruption of the faculty and students. I mean, it really is great, being alone for a change.
So, in I head to the bathroom, get business taken care of, and fortunately it is a healthy bowel movement and none too messy. (And I know you all wanted to know about all that). So I reach for some toilet paper... and there is none there.
No reason to panic. So I frog-walk myself to the next stall, pants and undies around my ankles. No paper there either. Duck waddle on to the next stall... and the next stall. Last stall. Nothing. What the fuck?
Sigh. Alright, fine. I saw paper towels in the dispenser. I take a leisurely short-strided stroll over to the sinks, crank out two heaping fistfuls of paper towels, and return like a hermit crab to my fortress of solitude.
Now, I'm not sure which paper company the college is buying their stuff from, but I'd wager it is a factory formerly behind the Iron Curtain. I say this, because the whole heinie-cleanup endeavor is a tad on the scratchy side.
Well, guess what? I didn't grab enough towels. So, I venture out once again, and there is the janitor standing there. I look up at him, pants around the ankles, bare butt sticking out.
"Hey, how ya doin?"
He nods. I grab more paper towels. Head back to base. Get myself all taken care of. Walk out standing tall. What else you gonna do?
So, just as well, I didn't write about original subject since this whole adventure is a real life metaphor for all things spiritual in my life.