While waiting at the bus stop to go to my night class, I was kind of in a foul mood about school and all its demands on my life these days. I was thinking about how I hate my night class and all the knowledge it simply leaves me wanting. I was thinking about how I have a midterm and a major assignment due in the same class tomorrow and how would I study and get the assignment all polished up if I was at my night class? bla bla bla. whine whine whine. Then I saw Mr.Christianson.

Mr.Christianson is basically a stranger to me, I have met him once but seen him many times. He is 86 years old I think and in the winter I often saw him in my neighborhood with his cross country skis on. He is little and Swiss and adorable. His wife died last week after being very sick for a long time. Today he was riding his bike. He passed me at the bus stop, smiled and said "hello!" and kept peddling into the wind. I watched him for as long as I could see him and then thought about how ironic it was that he was going up a hill, into the wind, on a little bike and he was just peddling and peddling and peddling....

and my life was put into perspective once again. phewf.