Whiskey Boxing.

So I don't want to sound like a broken record...but the hummingbird thing totally happened to me AGAIN.

And I don't want to be dramatic or anything...and say it's "sign"...but it's TOTALLY an omen of death! (or something.)

I suppose you could say I romanticize (is that the word?) things in my head. (Wait...no...that's not the word. Whatever it is though, that's what I do.)

I guess that's why I enjoy telling stories so much.
Or rather writing them down.

However, it's kind of a struggle having to rationalize with myself if something actually happened or not.
Kind of like waking up from a dream...for those few moments, you're not quite sure what's real and what's all in your head.

The other day, I received this email from my university's "Incident Command Team." It said I was deemed a "special contact" and would be notified in case of emergency...given further instructions...blah blah blah.

Basically, I was Liam Neeson.
And I knew they had chosen me because I had a certain "set of skills."

And the whole time, I was thinking, "Woah. How did my school know I was awesome enough to handle this immense responsibility? They must read my blog."

When I met my friends for lunch, I brought it up casually.
"So I got this weird email about being chosen for the 'Incident Command Team'...or whatever it's called." (See what I did there? Nonchalant. Classic.)

"Oh yeah, I got that too. I think we all did."

What da eff?

So you're saying...that we were ALL deemed "special contacts" and that I was NOT chosen based off my ninja-assassin skills?

So here I am, walking around, thinking...is this real life? Or the one I have created in my mind?
(The one where I assume I'm a ninja.)

It's not a bad place to be, it's just easy to get lost in.