“It is Wednesday.”

My college professor put this up on the screen the other day during a lecture. He asked if this statement meant anything to an audience. We were discussing the act of gathering quotes from people, and how to recognize a statement that would mean something to people. The class concluded that “this is Wednesday,” wouldn’t be very effective, because it wouldn’t mean anything to anyone.

But I couldn’t disagree more.

Wednesday could be your busiest day of the week, or your one sliver of freedom between Sundays. It could be an anniversary. You could have ended a relationship on a Wednesday. You could have lost your mind on a Wednesday, or you could have found yourself. You could have made the decision to put down the blade, or the bottle. You could have been born on a Wednesday. You could have discovered the purpose of life, or decided that you’re going down the wrong path of yours.

I’m realizing that everything I’m saying sounds super Tumblr.

My point is, no one should be able to tell you that a small statement doesn’t mean anything. Because chances are, just saying a single word can trigger a thought that expands into an idea, or more importantly, a meaning.

It’s the simple things in life that mean the most. The small gestures. They are the ones that change perspectives, ideas, and minds.

It was this lecture that made me question myself. Am I meant to be a journalist? They teach us not to add fluff to a story. No extra details, nothing small, just facts. They don’t want fluff. But sometimes, we need it. Fluff is what we feel. People need those seemingly insignificant details, because that is what they relate to the most.

I thought the whole purpose of Journalism was to relate to the people and get them to take notice of the world around them. No one wants to just look at facts. They want to understand the situation, to feel something come out of their reading.

So maybe this isn’t my calling. Maybe I need to choose a different path. I figured it out. On a Wednesday.