What makes me feel like a dork: when I reach up to adjust my glasses and then realize they’re sitting on the desk in front of me.
What makes me feel like a badass: when that trench-coated businessman on the corner downtown does a double-take when I pass him with my Lola license plate, blasting “Bulldog Skin.”
What makes me feel like a mess: when I wake up at 5:30 am on top of my covers and my unfolded clean laundry, all the lights on, the phone dead on the pillow next to me.
What makes me feel breathless: when you say “Sarah baby,” and I can feel it in the small of my back.
Bonus: What makes me feel inexplicably excited about my future: when the guy from the Proclaimers says “hither.”