i think the coffee's old. i know a bug bit my shoulder. twice. and paul simon sings of '50 ways to leave your lover' as if nothing is at all wrong.

i have these bouts of nostalgia. it's almost like a condition.

they come from left field. a single string of notes or a mention of something we wish we could do can set them off. or maybe it's something i don't even associate with it. like the birmingham news.

nostalgia: a longing for the past, often idealized and unrealistic.

but it just seems so good when i remember it.

the sun splashing through the leaves as my friends screamed with laughter.

the perfectly temperate breeze i almost didn't notice as he came closer.

the promise of so many things.

now it seems the promise was then. the things i was promised were happening then.

the excitement, the unknown, the adventure.

and this isn't to say i'm not happy with the way things are now. there's plenty of promise now, too. a lifetime with the most wonderful husband a girl could ever hope to end up with. babies. a flourishing writing career. hey, you never know...

but there's still this sense i am unable to definitively shake.

it's just always there. sometimes hiding. and sometimes attacking.

like today.

today, it attacks.

hell, maybe it's just all the 60's music i'm listening to today. it gets in my head and rattles my marbles, you know. hippies.