intentionally blank

The worst part about having a journal is feeling compelled to write simply because I haven’t in a long time. I set aside today to catch up on a lot of things, including tandem, and now it’s nearly six in the evening with no end to the two entries I’ve already started in sight. They both have really great titles, but I’m going to have to keep those for later entries, and just blather for a bit … ï ï ï Living outside the city and not wanting to commit ourselves to the hell that is parking, Chad and I spend a lot of time on public transit. More time, actually, in the past month and a half than I’ve spent in my entire life, and that includes my eight-year stint in Chicago. I’ve come to understand that not only do I not mind...