When I told her what had happened at the library meeting, she pretty much laughed her head off. Tossing my Golden-Retriever plush toy in the air, she said, “Vivi, you hare-brain. The graduate instructor for sure doesn’t hate you,” which filled me for five seconds with euphoric nausea. I wanted to float back to the library and vomit at the same time. Why is attraction a mix of elation and sickness for me?
