Sealed for Freshness

Unsurprisingly, winter has come to Maine. And in a big way, actually. It's not terribly cold here yet, but the sun is gone by 4pm. Apparently this lack of sun is quite affecting.

In an effort to control my own mood more than the weather does this winter, I've been trying to take advantage of the daylight hours and stay relatively active. The active bit manifests itself in the seemingly continual racquetball games I've been playing of late.

I really do enjoy playing, and I'm actually starting to act more like an opponent than a tag-along little sister that nobody wants around. So, I consider this a success. Now that I've demonstrated that the racquetball thing is not a passing fad in my life, I bought my very own racquet. It's glorious and sparkly and pinkish. Makes sense, right?

Anyway, the racquet is exciting and will no doubt dramatically change my game, but the balls are what I want to dwell on for a minute.

When my roommate relented and agreed to play a game this weekend, I excitedly pulled out my brand new tube of balls to find this:























The racquetball balls were sealed for freshness. Really? They're rubber balls. Fresh? I don't get it.

So, of course this made me all contemplative. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about this seal for days.

And just tonight it dawned on me. I've been bemoaning my seemingly isolated place in Orono, Maine probably since I arrived here last August. I've complained about the lack of people "like me" and the sad choice on the local radio stations. I alternately whined about and enjoyed the snowy walk to and from campus in the months between November and April. I've counted the days until I board planes out of the state. And I've taken day trips just to get out of Orono.

But what if I'm just currently sealed for freshness?

This could perhaps revolutionize the rest of my time in Maine. There are many reasons why I could stand to learn a little bit about my self at this point in my life. However...there are three balls in my tube. So, I think, if I can stretch this analogy just a bit further, that means that I don't have to be alone in my fresh world. This is also good news.

And finally, when I did open that tube of balls and pull out the one on top, by God, that rubber ball smell was gloriously clear and sharp. Reminded me off a new doll. Suddenly the seal made a lot of sense.