It's certain now. My life will be moving on in Chicago. There are so many different levels of satisfaction that are filling me right now.

I'm in a new stage of waiting, but this one is much more fulfilling than my previous stages of waiting to find out. Waiting to get there and get going is a fun sort of waiting. It's the sort of waiting where you either can't do anything but walk around aimlessly staring at things, or else you have to do everything- projects and writings and packing and get it all done now!

People spend money to buy drugs to feel as charged as I do now. All they really had to do is make plans to save the world, and then go to Chicago.

So what do I do now? I tie up loose ends. I get new glasses. I box up everything I own. I stand in the parkinglot and drink coffee in hot July early afternoons and think about how cold I'm going to be in two months. I fantasize about the wind, about the subways, about the big grey city building stereotypes I constructed in my mind when I was a kid. I study Spanish and worry about getting my speech practiced and up to speed. I wonder who is going to be reading this next month.

Oh, and I paint.