I was on vacation in New York State this week, trying to find some relaxation before I rejoined the work-a-day world. It was my first chance to get out of the city this summer, and I was thrilled. Spending a whole week away from my laptop was tough, but rewarding. I also was able to take _two_ overnight train journeys and read a four or five linear inches of book.
One of my friends was very excited about all things natural. He kept pointing out the sunsets and the full moons, kept mentioning how nice it was outside, kept imploring the rest of us to "come see". Maybe I've been living in the big city too long, but these things didn't thrill me as much as I thought they would. I was happy to sit on the floor in the air-conditioned living room and play cards or read a novel.
I was with friends from high school. I don't know if you still have friends from that historical era (most people I know don't), but they are strange friends to have. So much conversation revolves around the past: playing "remember this?" and speculation about "what are they doing now?" I don't talk about college with my college friends, or about post-college things from two years ago with my post-college friends. Why do we talk so much about high school? My theory is that high school was a very formative time in our lives, so it's more interesting to reminisce about it. I wonder, though, does this mean that college and post-college have been dull times? Did I really stop growing in 1995?
You'll be out of town for a while, I guess, so maybe you'll have an out-of-Chicago story to tell me when you return. While you're away, my friend would implore you to check out the moon, or see if you can find a place where the sun rises or sets over water. I guess we have watery sunrises here in Chicago. Maybe I should indulge in more all-night drinking binges so I can enjoy a sunrise over the lake. Reasons to drink all night aren't as common as one might think.
I still haven't "got" my job yet. They're saying they could offer it to me as early as next Tuesday. I don't know what this means for when I'll be starting work, but the sooner the better, I guess. I don't suppose you identify with my having too much time on my hands. I'll be happy when I can feel more like a real person by leaving the house daily and having actual "hard-earned" cash to spend at the bar. I have some cash, but it doesn't feel especially hard-earned.
That reminds me, we're out of dish soap and toilet paper here. I should run out and buy some.
Take care, and have fun on your tour.
See also: isolative.