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Life is not how many breaths you take

Yesterday I called Jennifer to have her do all my errands--the car was out of gas, the babysitter wanted to be paid in cash and early, and I wanted someone to pick up and watch Victoria while I went to the gym at school. Jennifer said ok because she is giddy with the prospect of going to Philadelphia today to shoehorn herself into the Live 8 concert.

We agreed to meet in front of the gym at 7:30 but they weren't there. I sat on the retaining wall for a while, listening to music. I waited about ten minutes and then I noticed that something smelled great. It couldn't have been me; my shirt was wringably sweaty. No one was nearby, but there was a smell like fabric softener sheets but better every time I inhaled. I enjoyed that for a few seconds and then I started to worry about where Jennifer and Victoria were. I wanted to call but I had left everything back in my office, so I walked back to my building. As I walked across the bricks in front of Hagerstown dorm I noticed another great smell. You know when you get a fire ring and someone has left a hefty log with one side perfectly charcoaled so that your fire will be a cinch? It smelled just like one of those logs. Then I walked between an athletic field and a parking garage and I got another nice one--something flowery. The parking lot behind my office smelled like cedar chips. Crazy. My office even smelled good, but I think that was from the microwave's most recent use.

I called Jennifer and had to leave a message. I told her that I would meet her back in front of the gym and I gathered up my bags and bags of stuff and lugged them back, all the while thinking about how Jennifer must have been mangled in a horrible accident and her phone was probably trapped within a ton of crumpled steel. My plan was to get back to the gym, see that she wasn't there yet, and call the babysitter to help me figure out what time the accident must have occurred. Then I would call the police. I did get back to the gym, I did see that she wasn't there, but just as I was looking for the babysitter's number I heard my name. They had just driven up and all was well. They lost track of time while Victoria was playing on pbskids.org. I was so relieved that I forgot to ask for my bank card back. Dang.

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