Dispatches from my beautiful disaster piece:

I hope you can't overdose on Vitamin C, although I wonder what would happen if one did. I've been sucking on Vitamin C drops like candy, in an effort to combat the cold demons that wait to attack me until I wake up each morning and lift my head into the grogginess.

I don't want to be sick. I'm taking my medicine. I'm drinking my orange juice. And I'm sucking on Robitussin Sunnor Orange Vitamin C Supplement Drops. I like to imagine that my potential Vitamin C overload is making my blood glow bright and amber as it runs through my veins.

Amber seems warm and healthy.

I am feeling warmer, and for once these days, I'm not speaking of the temporary feverish bouts that leave me agitated and uncomfortable. I like to think that feeling warmer can be equated to feeling better, so I'll soon be able to happily resume my independent ways, without the longing for someone to swoop into my life to rub my back, make me soup or otherwise coddle me.

***

I meet up with a familiar face and bid a temporary adieu to another. We travel a short distance to our familiar place where I intend to order my usual, my favorite. An unexpected reunion takes place when I realize a friend is sitting at the next table. Familiar laughter, spices, tastes and conversation before meeting with those whose car we'd seen pass down the street from our high dining perch. We walk into a club that has also managed to grow familiar, and I give a quick tour after responding to the familiar waves from the friends on stage. Hugs and a toast from our red velvet alcove after I order the beer I know is in stock and recommend to others the specialty cocktail I know would be enjoyed. We sing and groove to the songs I know well until I see another familiar face and run over for a hug and conversation. I come to unnecessarily, as it turns out, introduce myself to faces I know and, somewhat surprisingly, know me as well.

All of this familiarity is, somehow, entirely unfamiliar. Not that I'm complaining.