I feel like I must be in love because my heart is so happy and mushy inside. But I’m not, you know. The reason I feel in love is because I am going to Bridgewater college.
They’re letting me live off campus. I can pay it with grants and a few loans and things like that. I am happy.
A year of my life planned out? Are you serious? Is that even possible?
Speaking of falling in love, the other day I told my roommate Esta and my good friend Elizabeth that I had an urge to fall in love so that I could write about it easier. Cause I’m working on a fiction novel, you know, and what is a fiction novel without people falling in love?
Esta said, “The other day I saw a policeman and my heart lurched like it does when you fall in love.”
Then we had a discussion about that kind of heart lurch, and the things that can cause it.
The guy you love walks into the room.
You’re driving fast and you see a policeman.
You’re walking down the stairs in the dark and you think there’s not another step but there actually is.
You’re walking down the road and a dog jumps out of nowhere, barking.
You almost knock your roommate’s goblet off the counter (which happened to me this morning).
A cat attacks your feet.
The latter happened to Esta this morning. We have this crazy cat that showed up at our house the other day. We felt sorry for it and fed it but now it attacks our feet whenever we go outside and sits in front of our door all day meowing. I had nightmares about it all night. In my dreams I called it a demon cat and once it turned into a blue poodle and then later I decided I would name it “Lucy,” and have his last name be “Fur.”
Me: Esta, we have to videotape that cat.
Esta: Yeah. Why don’t you go stand out there in your bare feet, and I’ll videotape it?
Until next time, don’t feed stray cats and I hope your heart lurches whenever your husband calls.