Last night, I railed against my anti-social instinct and went out with a group of Astorians for wing night at one of the local bars. I got to see some of the old timers (and I count myself among them at this point); Laura, Jim, Meg, Tom, and Josh all showed up. Laura and I discussed our dislike of Chicago. Lots of new faces again too. It felt good to rekindle the Astoria-love a little.

Tonight I am thinking of going to a lecture (and I have a choice between two lectures!) but nagging thoughts like how much I need to clean my apartment are holding me back. Which is silly, because cleaning the apartment never takes that long. It’s just thinking about it that makes me slightly nuts.

 When I got home last night, I read something so scary-relevant to one of my situations that it almost made my brain explode. I could write about it, but it’s too soon to tell this story. It’s not a story yet. It’s just an anecdote. Maybe that anecdote will be Chapter One. Maybe it will remain a “potential.” Either way, it makes me think about words on the tip of my tongue and in the back of my throat. 

 Now I must go be productive. I am behind on a project, sort of. I am tired, but somewhat clearheaded. I need to get some caffeine in my system and get some work done.