Before I let you know what I did this time, I’d like to say a few things about stupidity. To say that someone has stupidity implies that it is with them all the time. But for someone to have stupidity all of the time would ruin the joyous feeling that others have when they get to see it unfold, in front of their very eyes. No, my friends, stupidity is a gift, a privilege, to all those that get stand on the side, and watch the struggle. Those that have occasional stupidity are more entertaining than the ones who, day after day, make the same doltish decisions. These are the people that turn you off to the glorious comic relief haven that the occasional moment of idiocy can provide. I am happy to say that I contributed to society in this way recently. Just last week, in fact. Let’s just say most of my problems came from the actions of the night before. That being said, enjoy.

It started off like any other Thursday. I was drained of energy, but the fact that it was one day until the weekend reassured me as usual. On this particular day I had to be in top of my morning routine, because I had Jazz band early in the morning. Usually I do well with this, but today I was cutting it close. By the time I was out of the bathroom, I realized that it was just after 6:30, and that I needed to go. With this in mind, I realized that I didn’t have much time to round up my possessions. So I threw some things in my backpack, grabbed my saxophone case and left.

Everything went surprisingly well after that. I thought there’d be some repercussions due to my unwillingness to get up. But I wasn’t out of the clear yet. I walked into the band room, set my stuff down, and started looking in my backpack for my saxophone case’s keys. But they weren’t there. Ok, let’s check again. I rummaged through my backpack multiple times, started taking out the contents, looking under every knook and cranny… but I still couldn’t find them.

It turns out I had foredoomed myself last night, when I decided to lock it up at my house. You know, because the place where you need your instrument locked up the most is at your house, of course. This was all fine except that I decided that I didn’t need my keys, and left them on the kitchen table, which I never checked because of the lack of time. So here I stood, somewhat dazed for a second, with an instrument case that I couldn’t get into, even though I owned it.

I tried calling my mom, multiple times, but to no avail. Then I figured I’d have to take matters into my own hands. I asked my director if she had two paperclips, and once I had them, I realised that I really don’t know how to pick a lock. But after a few google searches, I sat in the corner of the band room, bobbing my head to the music, still not knowing what I was doing. I admit it would’ve been easier if my torque paperclip would’ve stopped bending.

After ten minutes and no progress, I decided to stop and think. Well, what now? Should I go sit down? Sing my part, maybe? I really don’t know what else to do. Now that I knew that I won’t be able to get the lock off today, my point of view suddenly changed. I looked down at this….thing…..this piece of crap. This little piece of iron was no longer a friendly, safe way of protecting my possessions. No, this little lock was evil. It was an obstacle to my goal. It was nothing but a malicious, cruel being that was made for the purpose of ruining my day. I used to have preferences toward it in that I would want it broken or lost, but now I hated the sight of it. It needs to go, I thought. I didn’t care how it came off.

Just as I was contemplating the forthcoming death of the foul lock that lay motionless on my case, my phone rang. I ripped it out of my pocket, and who was it other than mom! O glorious mother, thank you, for finally returning my calls. I can’t tell you how great this moment felt. If I can’t get myself out of this hole I’ve dug, then maybe mom can help.

At this point, I was one hundred percent done with the inconveniences of my life. Only I, out of all the people in the band, was capable of locking myself out of my case. It’s just the way my life works, the way that everyone in my family works. So far, all of my siblings that played an instrument in band have also some how done something pretty dumb during their time. We’re just some pretty weird people.

Once I was done rethinking my morning’s choices, my mom had showed up with the keys. Finally, all was well in my world! I ran into the band room victoriously, and got my sax out. (By this time I had wasted at least half of my class time.) Since then, I’ve promptly gotten rid of my lock. That thing is a nothing but a hinderance, and I don’t think it helps any if I force myself to look after it’s key all the time. In fact, the numbers show that I’ve had zero problems since I’ve gotten rid of it, and I’d most definitely like to keep it that way.

Although stupidity is a gift to others, you might not feel all great yourself. You might say, “Well if it’s a gift, then I deserve to get something back!” And what do you receive? Nothing. Sadly, stupidity is a one way street. You give joy to others, but you really don’t receive much in return. You just have to think of it this way: maybe somebody was having a terrible day. Nothing’s going right, nobody’s helping them. And then you come along. And for at least one moment, because of you, life is great. Life is funny, for once. Even if that moment is fleeting, the memory is there forever. Every time they think about it, more joy will come. For those that just need a little bit of laughter, you can provide it. And don’t worry, you won’t be alone. I’ll be with you, there’s no way I’m done embarrassing myself.