Hello, loves.

It’s 8:31 p.m. and I am in bed!  Who thinks this is a good idea?  I know I do.

Nightmares again last night, so I was up early today.  I had no hurry to go into the office, so I worked from bed and the couch with a little toast and jam for breakfast before heading in around mid-morning.  I met two of my college girls in the Dining Hall for lunch and we ate at a table for three, but I wasn’t that hungry.  I had a bowl of Apple Jacks and a salad, skipping over today’s choice of Thai-themed food.

Perk of my job: basically, every workday if I wanted, I can eat lunch in our Dining Hall for free.  And since my college girls — well, almost all of them — are on campus, I do rotating lunches with them as much as I can.  We talk about boys, their roommates, boys, orphans, boys and sometimes the topic of boys comes up, but only occasionally.  I then fasten the button on my long brown coat and walk back to my office, happy and fulfilled, proud of my girls and wonder, really, how does Apple Jacks cereal taste so good?

– — –

I had dinner with another of my college girls tonight.  She’s a senior, graduating in May.  Over dinner, we discussed: grad school?  Job?  Stay here?  Move back home?  The boy?  Does the boy like her?  But is it right?  Maybe.  Maybe not?

I think the age I’m in now, my mid-twenties, is just fascinating if you really think about it.  And, my friends’ lives, too.  I have friends right now who are making decisions about their jobs, further schooling, marriage, babies, etc.  Small decisions, big decisions — making them one after another.  It reminds me of going to get my driver’s license renewed last year, the day I turned 25.

I was sitting in the waiting room, watching a sixteen year old take the written test for her license and I was suddenly struck with the thought that no sixteen year old is mature enough, responsible enough to have a driver’s license. I wanted to walk up to the girl’s mother and ask her if she was sure about this, if maybe they shouldn’t just wait a year or two, really, what’s the rush?

But instead I just sat there, waiting for my turn to pay for a new license of my own.

– — –

There have been two things I’ve wished for while I’ve been sick, two moments when I have felt especially vulnerable.

The first was early on, one night when my fever was high.  I was in bed, turned on my side, aching all over.  I wanted someone to sleep beside me, my back pressed into their chest, their arm around me.  I was tossing and turning and, at one point, actually said aloud “Surely, surely You don’t mean for me to do this alone, do You?” with a hint of assumed betrayal in my voice.

And then tonight, earlier when my head began hurting and I began wishing for someone waiting for me at home, maybe just a hand placed to the side of my head, a gentle pat, pat, pat. Come and sit down at the couch, Amy Beth, come and sit down here beside me for awhile.

It made me think of you two girls tonight.

Your husband doesn’t always do that for you, does he?  Sometimes he watches the football game instead, I’m sure.  He doesn’t notice that your head hurts, that you don’t feel well.  You’re exhausted, he’s asleep.

And you, the other one, the one at home alone tonight.  You’d pay an awful lot tonight if you could just buy what you don’t own, wouldn’t you?  What price you wouldn’t pay for the touch of another human being as you go to sleep tonight.

Well, come here for a second, the both of you.  Pat, pat, pat.