The human story narrates a mundane tale of the ‘every day’ until a ‘what if’ comes along to provide a refreshing, and sometimes necessary interruption. What if, there was more to life than 9 to 5? What if there was meaning in the little things – like the slight chill in the air and a numbness of the winds that reminds me of how I imagined the weather in Jane Eyre’s town? What if teary eyes at the memory of that packet of Maryland cookies back in London is crucial for keeping me grounded? What if the lights shining at 2 a.m. at Times Square were so bright in order for me to preserve them in my memory? What if the guy playing his guitar at the diag, on the way back from Walgreens after midnight, in Ann Arbor was extremely loud so that I could remember the music? What if…