Let me tell you something about being a girl in the city.
It’s not always a glamorous experience, chickens.
Last night, for instance, all the trains headed in the direction of my apartment were suspended because a furniture store caught on fire.
Say a prayer for those burning sectionals.
I was lucky enough to snag a ride with CJ’s hilarious and kind sister KJ, who took us on a slightly stressful, is.the.world.maybe.ending, hour-long ride through downtown.
This is a twenty minute drive on a normal day, my friends.
In addition, we managed to get turned around because the whole city of Chicago was panicking, and basically ended up driving into the fire itself.
CJ tried to get some air and came up with a mouthful of smoke.
After that, we resigned ourselves to Chipotle.
When I got home, JW was waiting, and let me know we’d be going to the Y in the morning.
I looked at him strangely.
I know I could use a workout, but it’s not like him to mandate fitness in the early hours.
I asked why, and he looked hesitant.
We still have no hot water.
And I have a huge meeting to lead tomorrow.
joke’s on you, I hear someone whispering, somewhere.
That meeting I just referenced?
Until this Monday at approximately 10:00 AM, I believed it to be happening on Thursday.
It turns out I still have tent cards to print tomorrow.
If you know me at all, you know that the prospect of a manual feed project shakes me at my very core.
Say a prayer for me too, chickadees.