as written, early early in the morning
It’s nearly 3am around these parts. And I have to admit it’s been awhile since work rather than general urban merriment kept me up this late. I’m itching to crawl right into bed, but it’s just been so long since I wrote, since I sat down and thought things through. Pen to paper as they say. I find myself crawling back towards it even when logic would suggest otherwise right now.
So, this is just to say that…
- I miss my friends. We’ve lived so many places and so fleetingly in the last several years, picking up again just as we hit a stride. It’s wonderful and yet it spreads your heart so very thin.
- God, Katherine makes me laugh! We met up for dinner last night and my cheeks are still ringing with over use.
- Sometimes I still live entire days in Chicago in my head. Where my mom is only an hour away and I live two blocks down the road from Em. And I’ll swing by her high rise after work, but before I meet Coe in our familiar corner at the bar at RL. And I’ll just head over to The Peninsula now, or leave the apartment and bundle up, across Michigan Avenue, on past the old water tower, beyond the MCA and there is the lakefront, it is just.right.there. Oddly, this is more satisfying than it seems…
- I have got to find a cheaper laundry solution, also one that doesn’t require me to hand wash half of my wardrobe in my sink.
- Today I loved New York because despite being buried alive in work since 7am, when David got home around 8, I took a break and we went to the gallery opening that was in full swing downstairs. Even with the day I’ve had, something about that small act felt like the pinnacle of all I could ever want in life. The ability to throw on a blazer but not a jacket, circle the staircase just one floor, and find myself in a crowded room, glasses clinking, in a scene surrounded by art. And then walk back upstairs and be home…
