Tanks and the days of summer

I’m at this point in life, like a handful of points previously, I have to make a leap. Do I go to college? What is my Major again? Do I stay in grad school? What is my career?

The other day Liz asked me if ‘this was what I wanted to do, for a career’? Was it? Fuck if I know. I know it comes easy and it uses a tiny bit of my degree. Sure. I can do this. Can’t I? We’ll find out.

There is this something about the summer air in Chicago. It’s hot and wet, it sticks to you like long wet ooze from slug, the city kips up dirt and the wind carries the find street particles – you’ll be nice and gross before dusk. Chicago summers are two-showers-a-day summers.

My only friend is moving away to South Dakota. He’s lived far away for some time – but we saw each other a couple times a year. I have ‘friends’ at work, but I guess I considered this one a real ‘friend.’ We’ll stay in touch.