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A little bit of thaumadzein

It's remarkable to note that when I'm at my busiest and most content, and, presumably, the most open towards this distant thing known as the real, that I am most often struck by the imponderable and unpredictable. In the last week, I've commenced a fifteen-credit semester at the University, and a part-time job at the University Bookstore. The course-load is meant to allow me to finish my honours degree in political science and to put a large dent in a minor degree in classical civilizations; the job is meant to pay-off the utilities.

This busy, yet agreeable, state of things apparently opened-up the possibility for some unexpected occurances. The first was being contacted by a girl who had a crush on me in high-school -- quite surprising enough. Today, however, the universe had a much more stupefying experience arranged: about an hour into work, and after classes, my job carried me into the shipping and storage rooms under the library. The task to deliver a womens' University sweater to a certain individual in the stockroom; the sweater had been returned by a customer, and had to be put back on the stockroom shelves. Having arrived, I discovered that the aforementioned fellow had already signed out for the day, and so I was redirected to "the girl down at the end".

When I went down the row to hand-off the sweater for restocking, I met "the girl down at the end". It was none other than Kerri.

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