My bike has been parked down by the RB for about a month now, and today, I decided it was about time that I go and get it.
After my singular morning class, I walk down the steps by the RB (yeah, the really, really long ones) and I walk by the bike rack. Sitting there, covered in frost, is my bike.
Now, this bike and I are relatively new acquaintances. We became friends this summer when I decided that, after finally getting my license, I needed some mode of transportation. "A car!" You suggest merrily? Nope, not for me. My ride needs only two wheels.
So down to Wal-Mart I go. I ride the bus there, and then begin to look for a bike. Not a really fancy one, just something for around town, and I see it: The Roadmaster. My secret desires to have the same title send me towards its shiny blue frame, its black rubbery wheels...and its 60 dollar price tag. I knew we were meant to be. After purchasing the bike, I take it out for a little test drive in the parking lot, and then towards the bus. I waited for a grand total of about 5 minutes before I decided I could probably get home faster myself. I rode up the large hill...painfully out of breath, and stopped at the top, deciding that perhaps I couldn't make it home after all. I waited another 5 minutes, and looked up a street to see the mall at the end. "Ooh!" Thought I, "I can go and show off my new wheels!" So I headed up the road and down
While on my way I discovered a bike path. I decided to follow it for as long as it might go. Turns out my friend had been trying to tell me about it, but I hadn't quite caught on. It also turns out that the path led all the way back to
Since we've become acquainted, my bike and I have made many a trip; up Provo Canyon to see Bridal Veil Falls and have a picnic, around Provo to do fun little errands, to class on occasion. The trip prior to today's left it at the RB.
And now we're finally back where the story was supposed to go.
So I start riding, and I'm trying to figure out the best way to get back up on campus. I decide that riding up a big hill seems like an awfully big hassle, so I'll just carry my bike up the stairs.
Stupid...stupid...stupid...
I get about halfway up them when I realize that I am very tired, and really starting to feel the friendship with my bike start to wane. I look behind me and I see a guy walking up the stairs, and I think, "Uh oh, what if he asks to help me?" So what do I do? Walk faster up the stairs of course! I get to the top with my bike, completely out of breath, hot, tired, and disheartened as I realize that I've still got to get home.
Why am I so dumb? There is a good chance that this guy wouldn't have even asked to help, and I still hurried up the stairs just in case. As I continued to walk home, I started pondering on why I can't let people help me. It just seems to be something that I'm not good at. I love to serve, I love to help other people, I love the happy feelings I get from knowing I did help someone. When it comes to letting other people get the same happy feelings from me though, I fight it. It's not that I don't want them to be happy, it's just that I fight against the idea that its ok to have people help you even when you can do something yourself.
*Sigh* Here’s to hoping I start learning a lot of lessons better, sooner.
Thursday, December 02, 2004
I am an Idiot.
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4 comments:
You're not the only one who doesn't like people helping you. My visiting teachers were probably inspired to call me last night and leave a mesage. Had I called them back, they would have asked if there was anything they could do for me. In fact, there was: my dishes. My kitchen is a disaster area. My mom would have a heart attack and curse herself forever for not raising her daughter to be cleaner. It's not my fault; my husband and I have a deal: I cook, he cleans, and he's too busy with homework to clean. So the kitchen is a mess, causing me additional stress on top of everything else loaded on me. And I could have had someone come help me last night. And I wouldn't, because it would have "proved" that I'm a failure at keeping a house of order.
Don't worry, you two. As soon as you admit that you're not a good housekeeper or whatever you can cheerfully abuse the willing help of gullible people. FCSM has seen my old apartment; she knows how terrible we are at keeping the place in shape.
By the way, I, too, am a proud owner of a Roadmaster. The $45 version, actually. It's the biggest piece of hud I've ever ridden, but it gets me where I want to go. Actually, it's in my brother's custody this semester. I hope he's taking good care of it and remembers to return it in better condition than he found it in. Maybe he'll fix those darn handlebars.
Do your handlebars slip too? It's a failing I've not yet found a way to correct. Any ideas out there? Anybody? Anybody?
Break down and buy a decent bike. That's what I had to do. Had to cough up $250, it was worth it though. The stories I could tell you about my other bikes...
I had a bike that did that too, when I was really young, I thought it was cool at the time, but eventually the handlebars snapped off, I tried to ride it without handlebars, but apparently they help balance the steering so much that it's impossible.
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