Despite my visit to the E.R. on the 22nd, due to my passing out in Shakespeare class (1.5 hours after I gave blood), my being told I am anemic, iron deficient, I feel fantastic. I am a healthy twenty-two year old woman who cannot go a day without laughing.
I told Jesse, right after the appointment, that I was a little anemic. That night I watched Scrubs and a few other shows in the Community Building in the UVA with friends. We all drooled as commercial after commercial features Outback Steak House, and other steaky-places.
Jesse called me the next day and asked if I was hungry. I was. He picked me up and we headed West, but the restraint we were going to was not open yet. So we cruised around Petco, talking about what pets we had as children, and which ones we would never have as adults. As 4 o’clock rolled around we sat down at Black Angus, ate a four-course meal, and were we were so full the waitress let us sit around because she understood.
The best way to go about life is to never forget that it can all be swept out from under your feet in no time at all. I look around my bright orange studio; think about my purple Civic; the green-blue eyes of my love; the black ink of pens; and the smooth white of the calendar on my pull-out desk: and I understand that all the things I have, no matter where they stand on the color spectrum, are all precious things. I cannot take anything for granted because I have sworn not to. I refuse to miss something only after it is gone.
January was a good month, a solid moth that was laced with wind and the promises of lessons learned.
And there goes January. This Saturday went particularly fast as well—time must be speeding up.
I watched the sun cross the sky, descend with a smile, and color the sky like a blue honey-dew as it slid behind the horizon.
I am so happy. I am so content. I feel each day like a deep breath through my lungs.
This is bound to be my best (though last) semester ever.
