There’s that point where you think you are drowning but suddenly realize you are swimming. It’s the same as that point on the rollercoaster where your stomach keeps traveling upwards while your body has already begun to settle.

That was today, to a tee – breathless and fumbling until around eleven, where I realized that my definition of fumbling is everyone else’s state of enthusiastic focus.

Somehow it carried through the end of the day and past my mad dash to the train (run past the liquor store at full tilt; realize I have overshot my goal by a block; run back to the liquor store at full tilt), floating me through our meeting until it was just us finishing our wine and Gina and I singing our harmony for Lindsay, and a room full of people saying they can all tell I sing better now.

It carried through the slightly damp walk to my threshold, within which I slipped off my headphones to discover Elise blasting WOGL in the room. “Love the One You’re With.” (it’s been following us this week)

Her head emerged from her office. “I just wanted to make sure you would dance with me.”

I’m sure I’ll eventually figure her out, too.