On Thursday morning, right before my farewell lunch at my intern job, I felt the fever break on my love-eye-tis. As I drove to work that morning, I thought seriously about posting on this blog more demands of a young lady I once asked out. Now, not so much. Nor do I have any demands of Schmaylor Schmift. Nope, no demands of anyone. Something about the pleasant-yet-real experience of anticipating my going away party those nice ladies at my intern job organized for me seemed to snap me out of that whole otherworldly jag I've been in these past several months. I can't recall snapping out of this sort of thing so rapidly since, well, ever. Maybe all those years of trying to get myself to think about all of this love stuff in different ways than I automatically think about that stuff paid off in that one instant where I just snapped out of that whole state of being. And in snapping out of it so suddenly, I kind of see that constant ruminating over issues of love, dating, and relationships does not necessarily constitute a "normal," "resting" state of mind.
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