GOING NUTS IN THE CITY

The last few days, my life has been moving in this strange surreal scene-by-scene reflection fashion. I think it'd make for a good book.

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I had a dream. I was four, maybe five. No older than six. Caught up in the life I had, going to ballet once a week and Montessori every other day. With no apparent reason, some man approached me, explaining I had to sing and dance in the next ballet show. I'd have to get everything ready. Suddenly I had the responsibilities of a 19 year old college student. I woke up. I was late for French.
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I spend twelve hours straight with John, Brett, and Jess. We determine the fastest routes around campus. Without cheating. For the most part. I dance, drink, eat pizza, clap along with Boomshaka and Paul Wertico, and relive childhood watching Indian Jones: The Last Crusade.
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I cover my eyes because skeletons scare me. My sister teases me. Tickling follows.
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My parents and I are standing in Panera. I'm wearing Josh's cologne. I wonder if we'll get these Panera places in Ohio, they're pretty good. Sarah and I watch a group of Northwestern kids studying while sitting up at the counter facing the window. Secretive I-want-to-be-you envy ensues.
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I'm sitting at the counter in Panera. Reading. Drinking a hot chocolate. Here I am.
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Rain falls. The windshield wipers aren't on. We cry and hold each other because we just know.
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Crawling up on the lifeguard chair at the beach in winter snow, the chair loses all its meaning one fall gave it.
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Dancing, I run up and down the aisle of the church. My favorite white dress flounces with each step. It's spring, so I get to wear my new shiny white shoes. An older lady grasps by hand and smiles as I run by her. The song stops. I know I have to sit down and wait for the next one.
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I'm sitting in Uncle Steve's seminar class. The Carter Family sings, hidden somewhere in the corners of the room, "Can the Circle Be Unbroken?".
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I tap my pen.
But.
Inside.
I'm dancing.