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When I flew into Chicago, I saw how huge it looked compared to every city we'd flown over on the way, and especially compared to Philly. From the air, it's obvious why we call it the Chicagoland area. The skyscrapers in the city looked like a pyramid of steel and concrete growing suddenly out of the earth, or a series of peaks at the quantum level--the sky was so blue, and the sun was shining over it all. When I took the tram at the airport, it was reminiscent of a roller coaster. I'm sure Six Flags was bursting yesterday. When I first stepped out into the sun, it was warm and the breeze was sweet, the weather was beautiful, and I wished it everywhere. Waiting for the bus was even beautiful.
Rewinding--I was supposed to take the 8:05pm flight to Chicago on Tuesday night. Made it all the way to the airport and said my goodbyes before I checked in and was told my flight had been canceled, got put on the 10:35am the next morning. Called them back in a fever and got picked up again, and every moment after that was... free and clear of plans. It was the strangest sensation. I was working outside the lines now, I could do anything I wanted. I was comfortable with the city, and walking around the center of it. I was confident in my ability to find things to do with myself while Nick was at work. I briefly thought that I could find work, stay at the apartment for the rest of the summer, help pay the rent and supplement Nick's internship pay. I thought--I could do it. I could totally do it. I am standing at a point in my life where I could do any darn thing I wanted to do.
It was nice.
Of course, I came back anyway, I already have a job, and I wouldn't want to leave them in the lurch. I like my co-workers, but it was there--actual, tangible freedom. No plans, all possibilities. Will it be there after Knox? Is that what it is to be out and about? I like it.
We ate water ice, and sat in a park, then went to sleep and woke up early, and didn't get up until the last possible second.
From every point after I left Nick on 19th and JFK that morning, I was seized with the thought, I could turn back right now and be away from plans some more. I sat in the Septa station: I could leave the station.
I was on the R1 to the airport--I could turn around and take one back.
I was past security--I don't even have to get on the plane; up until take-off every so often it would flash in my mind, you could just turn around and go back to the city right now. Of course, I took off, and in less than five minutes I was farther away than I'd been for the last six days.
Then I turned around and read my book, and when I got back to Chicago, the sun was shining, and the breeze was sweet, and all was right with the world. Now, there's really only laziness keeping me from going outside and doing everything I can.
Rewinding--I was supposed to take the 8:05pm flight to Chicago on Tuesday night. Made it all the way to the airport and said my goodbyes before I checked in and was told my flight had been canceled, got put on the 10:35am the next morning. Called them back in a fever and got picked up again, and every moment after that was... free and clear of plans. It was the strangest sensation. I was working outside the lines now, I could do anything I wanted. I was comfortable with the city, and walking around the center of it. I was confident in my ability to find things to do with myself while Nick was at work. I briefly thought that I could find work, stay at the apartment for the rest of the summer, help pay the rent and supplement Nick's internship pay. I thought--I could do it. I could totally do it. I am standing at a point in my life where I could do any darn thing I wanted to do.
It was nice.
Of course, I came back anyway, I already have a job, and I wouldn't want to leave them in the lurch. I like my co-workers, but it was there--actual, tangible freedom. No plans, all possibilities. Will it be there after Knox? Is that what it is to be out and about? I like it.
We ate water ice, and sat in a park, then went to sleep and woke up early, and didn't get up until the last possible second.
From every point after I left Nick on 19th and JFK that morning, I was seized with the thought, I could turn back right now and be away from plans some more. I sat in the Septa station: I could leave the station.
I was on the R1 to the airport--I could turn around and take one back.
I was past security--I don't even have to get on the plane; up until take-off every so often it would flash in my mind, you could just turn around and go back to the city right now. Of course, I took off, and in less than five minutes I was farther away than I'd been for the last six days.
Then I turned around and read my book, and when I got back to Chicago, the sun was shining, and the breeze was sweet, and all was right with the world. Now, there's really only laziness keeping me from going outside and doing everything I can.
