When there is the lunchtime talk that makes you scribble/think;
when you return from said talk to find a random cat,
curled beneath your window;
when the piano baby bounds into your house with the book she took from the library, and without having even read it word for word, tells you all of her favorite things, further demonstrating that you and she are of the kindred-spirit kind.
When you are not entirely sure what prompted it (was it that obvious that you hit the wall of what in the world is my life?! 5 minutes before you came to class?), but the student hands you this note on your way out of the room, and you find it encouraging; worth it, even.
When her mom is having her lesson and she is searching all over your house for something to do, and then suddenly she is consumed with a project at your table, intended "for your refrigerator."
When the talk burns through your collective soul, and afterward you listen to the thrum in the room of voices warm and touches of new and inspired love, and you notice that this actual moment literally would not exist if you did not exist, because you are the one who made for it to happen, and it strikes you in that deeply poignant moving place, because of the film clip shown where the black man said: my grandfather was unjustly killed at the hands of white men, and all of the things he would have done for the world? Didn't get done.
When technically you are not eating bagels at the moment, but when you stop for the coffee on your way in in the morning the bagel toasted with butter is the thing you know you need (or else you might not make it through), and (though what you have available to you is technically not a bagel as you would define it, nor technically even toasted, truth be told) you sit at your desk amid all the rushing things, pretending for a moment that they do not exist.
When Spaghetti alla Puttanesca has recently fallen on your intrigue (via the novel to which you have been falling asleep), and then you are snowed in for the day (with just enough interval in the snow fall for piano babies to tramp across your yard and fill your kitchen with boots and gloves and every other wet thing they were able to gather between the car and your door) and (though you have enough food in your refrigerator) there is something too romantic about just so happening to have the somewhat random ingredients on hand, and so you break open the wine, and get to cooking.