As I was crossing East Bay Street during my planning period, one car was nice enough to stop and let me cross.
I thought, “how nice!” and then, “I feel dumb for standing in the middle of the street, I bet those people in the car think I’m dumb, too”.
Then I realized I knew the people in the car—my dear friends the B’s, back in Charleston for a month or so.
I haven’t seen them since last year, but yet it’s as if we haven’t been apart whatsoever.
I freaking love that feeling—the truest mark of friendship.