Dammit.

It's crazy, but I think I really kind of wanted to be forced to move to Cowtown. I keep telling myself that Cowtown would not be good at all, but another part of me thinks it would have been fun. I'm even kind of hoping D. gets laid off. Then, we'd have to move to Cowtown.

I know that Chicago is better. Better jobs. Better food. Better entertainment. But it scares the hell out of me. I don't even know why. I was scared of moving to Milwaukee, and I ended up loving it. Even though we were butt-pathetic poor most of the time, it was a great place to live. And this time, I won't make the mistakes we made in Milwaukee. No roommates who might move out and leave us stranded. No keeping a shitty job when they cut the hours, instead of immediately looking for something else.

I'm afraid to even mention this to D., because I've gone back and forth on this so many times. He'll just say it doesn't matter to him, and we'll do whatever I want. But I have no idea what I want.

Chicago is good. Chicago is good. I will love Chicago. Oh, yes I will.

In Cowtown, we could plan with other people where to move next. Maybe NYC with Jack and Anne. Maybe New Mexico with Vincent. But I'm sick of moving. I want to move to one more city, and then maybe to a better apartment in the same city later on, and stay there forever. Maybe even buy a house. I'm sick of packing everything I own every few years. Chicago is somewhere I could concievably live the rest of my life. Cowtown is not.

Chicago is good. Chicago is good.

I actually talked with Arthur when I called. He relayed the conversation between Christine and me. I heard Christine say, "They'll never make it." That kind of pissed me off, actually. Maybe we will. I think I owe it to myself to find out.

That's really what it comes down to. Margaritaville is safe. But maybe I shouldn't be safe. Maybe I need to take a big step. Maybe I'll screw it up, but maybe I won't.

Chicago is good. Chicago is good. Chicago is good.

previous--next