For a college student, we tend to have our different types of weeks when it comes to productivity. What are these you ask? Well, we could be active and do things like go to class and eat a sandwich, or, we could watch Netflix for an entire Wednesday in last Thursday’s socks. It’s the little things. 

For me, the past week of my life has been fairly uneventful when it comes to school work, social life, and personal life. However, as I have been going about my day to day routine, there have been a few defining moments that inspired me to write this blog. These are four moments that reminded me that during days where it seems your only productivity is putting in a load of laundry and then proceeding to forget about it for six hours while you take a nap (this is a real life occurrence that recently happened to someone I know…or me…you can decide), there can still be monumental life happenings in between,  you just have to look for them. So, for those of you who give a crap, I have broken down my week into 4 defining moments that happened to me that made me once again take a step back (if you’re still wearing Thursday’s socks, it’s technically two steps back) and say to myself, “It really is the little things.”

*Disclaimer: Every event about to be described below actually occurred within the days of November 3rd to November 10th and is not at all embellished. Identities may be protected in story descriptions, but that’s simply to make me seem more important than I really am.* 

This year, one of the things that I have taken up in my free time is Zumba. After trying out the free classes in Marist’s dance studio, my friends and I have been actively going since the beginning of the school year. By the third month of school, my body roll is practically famous campus wide, and don’t even get me started on my running man.

Anyone who has ever done Zumba, any woman who has ever had breasts, or practically anyone over the age of five knows that when a woman does any form of physical activity, a sports bra is almost always imperative. While it is certainly for your own personal comfort, if your breasts are over about an A cup size, it is also for the comfort of those around you. So, you can imagine my distraction this past Tuesday when I was graced by the presence of a female fellow Zumba-er who was sporting at least double D size breasts, sans bra. 

Talk about a whole lot of body roll. And on second thought, maybe it really is all about the big things.

The next moment occurred towards the end of last week. I was hanging out with some friends one night (who’s names shall be disguised because I’m still pretending I’m important) on the back porches of one of Marist’s townhouses. Down below the balcony, someone requested a particular water bottle from inside. Upon throwing it down to him, it was almost immediately returned by being violently hurled against the glass sliding door of the balcony. In disbelief, we all just sat there stunned, shocked that the glass door didn’t shatter. Noticing our surprise, the friend yelled up, “Don’t worry, it’s an Algae. It’s an indestructible water bottle,” with another friend almost immediately replying, “Yes. But the glass door isn’t.”

I returned home that night with my faith in the intelligence of my generation being 100% restored.

Perhaps the most life altering little moment that happened to me this week was on November 4th. I had the best cookie of my life. 

Contrary to popular opinion, I’m an oatmeal raisin girl, or as I like to call them, the salad of cookies. Dense, yet soft, I bit into the most magical oatmeal raisin cookie I have ever had at my friend Maggie’s house last Thursday night (Yes, Maggie is the real name, and yes, I am kind of a big deal). Just a brief backstory, over the summer, Maggie came to visit me at home and brought the most magical cannoli dip with her. “Oh, my mom got it!”, she told us when we asked where it’s from. My mother ate practically the whole tray then proceeded to go out and buy two more. Now, every time we have company, my mom sets out to Shop Rite to buy a tray of their cannoli dip. I finished my cookie and then asked my friend Becky where they came from. She immediately replied, “Maggie’s mom!”

Apparently not all hero’s wear capes. Thanks, Mrs. West.

Oh, and finally, not that many of you give a crap about politics, but Donald Trump’s gonna be president.

 It’s the little things.