So there I was, walking through grand central to catch a train.

My brain was still spinning from a long day at work, and I was doing my thing where I obsess about whether I’m actually smart enough to do my job. (I know what you’re thinking: “chris, you’re the most brilliant person I’ve ever met! How could you think you’re not smart enough?”  You just have to understand that I work with some DAMN SMART PEOPLE. Some would use the word “distinctive.”. At the risk of overextending this parenthetical detour, I should tell you that I sometimes tell myself that my Tuck Scholarhood was due exclusively to 3 things: 1. My admittedly recent desire to prove to myself that I’m smart, 2. my willingness to work my ass off to do so, and 3 my obsession with Excel. At other times, I convince myself that I never see anything through to the end, but I get by because I’m a brilliant test taker. Bottom line: I’m a self-conscious pyschological basketcase who’s off his meds.

So that was my state of mind, when my brain suddenly registered the stimulus it was receiving from this advertisement on the wall. And then I smiled. I couldn’t control the smile. All of a sudden I had a big shit-eating grin on my face, and there was nothing I could do about it.

I’m not sure if any of the other busy commuters noticed my sudden lack of new york detachment. I can only pray that my lapse went unnoticed, or at least that I never see them again.

So bravo to Kleenex! Bravo to the creative genius who conceived of that ad!

You made me smile, at a time when I really needed to smile, if only to remind me that what makes me truly distinctive is not my ability to perform public mathematical gymnastics (nonexistent), or my smooth communication style (not so much), but rather my absurdly sensitive soul that appreciates truth and beauty much more deeply than any of you shallow robots reading this blog…..yes, even in a toilet paper advertisement.