#7… the penultimate class.
Next week is it.
And then what happens?
I guess we fall off the edge of the earth.
When I was in college, I woke up one night to the feeling of someone else’s hand on my head.
I was startled awake by it and immediately yelled, “Someone just touched my head! Someone just touched my head!”
My roommate, still half-asleep, mumbled, “What?”
But I just continued to shout, “Someone. Just. Touched. MY HEAD!”
When I was little, I wanted to be a standup comedian… and then for a brief stint… the President of the United States… and then at one point, I think I just wanted to be a computer?
Like, not even a robot… just a straight-up computer…
… but for the most part, the dream was always “comedian.”
This morning, I walked out of my apartment completely brimming with hope for what the day before me held.
And before I even made it to my car… a bird shit on my head.
I’m not that fearless.
It was 1am.
I knew I had work the next morning.
But I also knew I had 3 beers running through my veins.
Pumping life into the part of me that thought, “Karaoke’s a good idea.”