The thing that popped into my brain this morning at 5:45a, listening to Bob do her morning phonetic warm-ups, is that when I lived in NYC in my early 20s I used to read the Craigslist missed connections (where you can post about a stranger you saw on the train that you were drawn to, etc) every morning , I used to read them quite religiously, hoping that someone had fallen in love with me. Drink coffee, check email, play bills, check to see if anyone had fallen in love with me. I was half checking as a habit but the other half was wanting to get swept up in a great love story, that in retrospect would not have been that great. A few times I would see a post that sounded like it was describing me, but then I realized I wasn’t wearing a yellow hat, or I was not reading Kerouac, or I was on the L train an hour earlier. One day I was on the long and crowded train home, waiting for someone to fall in love with me, when I saw someone across from me reading one of my plays, and I decided that this was enough, this was the right kind and right amount of love that I needed, and I think it was then that I stopped checking.