The first week of class was stormclouded over by all this car keys hassle. Parking tickets were amassing. Businesses were yanking me around. I felt frustrated and impotent, with no end in sight. I couldn't shake the codependent, irrational notion that if Nick was here, he would be able to magically fix it for me.
Today provided some much needed perspective about all the warm bodies out there who give a shit about me. I got two beautifully illustrated letters from Lauren, one of which contained two CDs of new sounds for my earholes. I got a notice in the mail that Ana had bought me a subscription to ReadyMade to balance out all my grueling scholarly reading. My brother drove two and a half hours to hand deliver my CAR KEYS (case of the missing keys closed, by the way: my mom absentmindedly palmed them into her purse last weekend when she visited). And when I reached Columbus, blood sugar on a sharp downturn, Nick had just returned from dinner with his dad at my favorite restaurant and had picked up a carryout sandwich there for me. Seeing that brown takeout box in his fridge for me was like Christmas fucking morning.
