It feels great to be back in Chicago! I don’t know why particularly, but it feels like a home from home. Great place.
I was up for a solid 24 hours yesterday, and it was totally worth it. Bumped into Stewart on board a Glasgow to Luton flight, and kept each other marginally more awake than normal. Spent the entirety of an 8 hour transatlantic flight veering between two thoughts: “the guy in front of me is really cute” and “that kid is 3 and playing with an iPhone – I feel old”.
The journey from O Hare to my friends apartment is fairly straightforward, and was going fine until I had to switch from the metro to the bus. I made a mental note last year when I was here of which side to get the bus on (after riding it in the wrong direction for 40 minutes), yet still got totally confused by it again. Ha. I really don’t do buses.
Got soaked on the walk from the bus stop to Hannah’s place – it’s been raining off and on, but today wasn’t too bad. Took a trip to Navy Pier and wandered around Michigan Avenue again.
Being inspired and encouraged by Don Miller’s new book, A Million Miles In A Thousand Years, which I read in London yesterday – more on that later.
I walked out of the office today for the last time as a staff member. Four months as a online PR officer have flown by, even more so than 10 months as a youth worker.
What can I say about the last 14 months? No doubt there will be more words here over the coming weeks. Right now?
I’m so privileged to have had 14 months working for an organisation I truly believe in, with colleagues who have become close friends, doing a job that gives me such satisfaction. You know, after this I think I could actually get used to the 9-5 thing…!
This track popped up on shuffle earlier this week, and it seemed so totally appropriate! It’s been a while since I’ve listened the whole way through a John Mayer album, but I’ve been listening to him a lot this week again.
Staying home alone on a Friday
Flat on the floor looking back
On old love
Or lack thereof
After all the crushes are faded
And all my wishful thinking was wrong
I’m jaded
I hate it
I’m tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
So tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
Get here
Searching all my days just to find you
I’m not sure who I’m looking for
I’ll know it
When I see you
Until then, I’ll hide in my bedroom
Staying up all night just to write
A love song for no one
I’m tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
So tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
I could have met you in a sandbox
I could have passed you on the sidewalk
Could I have missed my chance
And watched you walk away?
Oh no way
I could have met you in a sandbox
I could have passed you on the sidewalk
Could I have missed my chance
And watched you walk away?
I’m tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
I’m so tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here oh yeah
I’m tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
I’m so tired of being alone
So hurry up and get here
“The very act of storytelling, of arranging memory and invention according to the structure of the narrative, is by definition holy… We tell stories because we can’t help it. We tell stories because we love to entertain and hope to edify. We tell stories because they fill the silence death imposes. We tell stories because they save us.”
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