Flashes of Panic

Wow. That was remarkably damp. Even more so than in 2002.

My sleep-deprived brain is currently seeing any roadside reflectors as the bobbing headlights of approaching runners. I drive my little Civic like a fifteen-passenger van (and I’m startled at how well it handles.)

I think the representative moment was the Girl Scout at the New Hampshire Technical College in Laconia who was simply wandering around the cafeteria room asking anyone and everyone if she could help. Since I never saw her actually helping anyone, I expect we all felt like I did: in the face of her open willingness to pitch in, what little things confused our clouded minds (finding water hot enough to make tea, for example) seemed too little to burden her with. We wanted to give her a worthy project, like world peace, or directing traffic in the parking lot.

Now, a real bed for the first time in a while.