education week.

As a freshman at BYU I was faced with the choice of whether or not to move home during the summer. Going home would mean continuing to date a young man that didn't deserve my attention ["Wow she's so conceded..." huh], living at home under the jurisdiction of my parents, and putting my Provo social life on a cruel halt in order to "save money" for the upcoming year. Staying at BYU for spring/summer term= new apartment, new friends, new classes, new opportunities, new [another] job, new major, new outlook, new etcetc. I chose the latter and my expectations of the summer were met ever so nicely. However there are cons in nearly everything... efy children, loss of sleep [meh, not necessarily a con], and having to pay cp 99 precious bucks a month to sleep in a bed and use their freezer for my otterpops. Another con that the majority of BYU's population gets to experience is the first week or two before fall semester begins. Apartment complexes start to over flow, campus gets a little too crowded, and all the sudden you become just a number again. Am I speaking of students... no, not a student number... a number among the hundreds and thousands of old ladies and their leashed husbands at education week. Education week... it's like efy for retired folks. They get to relive their younger years by coming back to campus and living in a dorm [that they totally could have really lived in 40 years prior] and taking classes from some of the best professors Provo and surrounding areas have to offer. Many if not all of the students residing in Provo have a hard time dealing with these gung-ho oldees. "The Buicks flippin' take up two parking spots!" or "Just because he doesn't usually get banana peppers on his Subway doesn't mean he has to explain why!" I relish in this humor and put probably too much effort into observing these prehistoric specimens and their attempts to become hip. At first I, too, was rather annoyed... it was like, "Get off my domain, I've got somewhere to be and your walker is taking up the whole sidewalk!" Yeah, that might have happened like once...uh... until they started coming to me in my youthfulness and practically asking me to save their lives! One after another would stop me and ask, "Where in sam hill is the JSB?" or "Could you help me read this map... I think I'm headed to the Clyde Building but it seems to be gone..." With my powers combined [powers being- my innate sense of direction and map reading skills] I directed mobs upon mobs of old molasses men and women. I never even got tipped... yet as a friend of mine suggested, I have heard of plans to erect a statue near the ASB of me just standing there, in action, pointing to the Wilk. A hero they called me and it wasn't like people didn't know who I was. This praise even followed me to the Bookstore basement at my dearest department of Pack'n'Ship. As a result of ed week we were open until 10 pm instead of 8 pm... sick nast! First off all the carriers have come and gone by 4 pm, secondly all the ed weekers go to bed at like 8 anyways! So... from 8-10 every night I found myself either reading "Princess Bride" or helping straggling customers that would come in at 9:45 wanting to ship all their belongings to Thailand. I could handle this though... because from 3-8 [when said ed weekers would come] they would of course recognize my face from the statue mentioned before and they would shower me with gifts and compliments not found anywhere else! They would begin by complimenting on my name, "Katelyn, what a name, that's a very pretty way to have a name." Sense? This has none. The next gentleman basically started throwing money at me! "A dime for your Christmas party miss" here, or a "keep the change" with a grandpa wink there. I was getting famous... and fast. Another favorite of mine was when they would ask how late we were open [of course they are used to the post office closing at 5]. "10 pm... unfortunately..." I would grumble. "Oh my! Look at you! Such a hard worker! Making it possible for me to come whenever I want! I think I'll go buy more super randomly shaped objects and bring them back for you to pack! Because it's not busy in here at all and you look like you want something annoying and tedious to do!" Was I working hard? Yes, there were swarms of ed weekers that needed help. Did they leave and buy even more ginormous paintings and insanely long wreaths for me to package and ship to FARMINGTON?? or OREM?! Yes. Was it tedious and occasionally annoying? Yes. Yet the annoyance turned into humor after day two. I found that anything annoying that week could easily turned into something humorous. Like when someone bought a 73x53 painting [that wasn't actually a painting, it was electronically created] and hauled it into us to "secure" within 5 minutes of us commenting on how we hope no one buys it. Or when they would come to the counter to be helped and they would yell through the wall, "Hello in there!" "Is anybody home?!" or my favorite "I'm ready!" like they just got potty trained for the second time and were indeed successful. The bell is there for a reason folks, you ring once and we come willingly. You ring twice and we laugh/mock said ringer and still come... for the double ringers are always the snooty ones in a hurry. You ring thrice and we assume that you are deaf and can't hear the bell so you keep trying. We come. Annoyed [w/ humor of course]. You ring four+ times and we don't come at all because we know it's just one of us on the way back from the bathroom trying to be annoying. On occasion we'll even get the immature fathers that think that "no one is home" so they play with the bell, as their 3 year old son would, while they fill out the shipping forms and pick out envelopes. Always a lovely way to embarrass yourself, especially when I walk around the corner with an "Oh I thought that was a stray child" look on my face.
However as much as I complain I still can't help but to love all the senior couples that roam around campus during those stressful weeks before fall semester. Early every morning on my way to work I was approached by such cheerful ladies and gents that were so humble and happy to be alive. You see, they had already been awake for three hours so their cheerfulness had kicked in for sure. If they weren't asking me for instructions or for... cough... my autograph... they were smiling and wishing me a good morning as I walked past as if they could see themselves back in college just by looking at me. You don't get that kind of love at 7:50 in the morning during any given semester when the masses are rushing to class.