Chicago is a great place.
It is especially great if you 1) are young, 2) have a good job in the Loop, 3) have a nice apartment in a lively part of town, and 4) have a nice girlfriend who likes you back. Reid has all those things.
My weekend there was roughly 48 hours of sorely needed, long overdue catch-up time. Most of the catching up was over copious amounts of food and and somewhat less copious amounts of drink. All the better to ply the facts out of him: How’s work? How’s the agency biz? You spending much time with Liz? Show me photos of India. We need to talk about St. Paul when Ellen‘s baby arrives. Are you going to stay in Chicago? When will you visit Charlotte?
His answers were expansive and well beyond the shortish texts that punctuate some of our weekly exchanges. All of which a parent hopes to glean on just such an extended weekend.
There was next to no chit chat about Charlotte. He’s been filled in all along about what’s going on down here. This was about where he’s been, what’s he’s doing, and where he’s going. So in that vein the weekend was all good.
There was no letter sent last week; I put all my eggs in the Chicago basket. Ellen had to do with no letter for one week. Trust me, that’s no deal breaker.