Memories-fil-A

On my way to my promotional interview Tuesday night, I decided that I had to pee. Although it was one of those inbetween urges, where you know you have to pee but you're not sure if you have to pee anytime soon... I didn't want to take chances in a room full of people asking me questions. I don't need that kind of pressure.

I have no idea why I'm telling you this except so that I can set up why I dropped in at the firehouse on my way to city hall -- to pee, of course. And I tell you that I dropped in at the firehouse so that I can tell you that I smelled Chick-fil-A when I walked out of the back door there.

For those not scoring at home, you probably don't see the significance of this. I'm not talking about just any Chick-fil-A. I'm talking about the odor that can only stem from the one, the only and the now extinct Chick-fil-A at the University of Louisiana at Monroe. Talk about acid flashbacks.

For a brief moment, I was 200 miles and at least four years away. For the two dozen or so steps it took me to walk from the back door to my truck, I could have just as easily been back in Monroe at school. But I wasn't. I was in Maumelle. Four years into a job that I love. Four years. I'm as many years removed from school as I spent there. Wow.

Where will I be and what will I be doing when, one of these days, something triggers the memories of right now? And, more importantly, will I feel as though I'm better off when that happens?