A Little Woozy, A Little Bluesy

I am sitting at Busboys and Poets, enjoying a mint tea and the sounds of people. A high school student scribbles x's and y's, murmuring equations. A young woman studies anatomy and reads longsounding names from index cards. I sit between them, perpetrating, checking my email and editing an article. I miss being a student. Scratch that. I miss feeling like a student. Feeling like your future is open and unknown, every day an answer to the ever-present question, "What will I do when I grow up?" Damn. I am grown up. So what am I doing?