Twenty four hours to London.

In about twenty four hours I’ll be back in London. At Simon’s in Andersonville, I was talking travel with Sean the ad agent. He asked where in the world would I go tomorrow if I could go anywhere? Where would I go? I would stay in Chicago.

I haven’t packed and don’t want to. I’m still short a few supplies for the return–marshmallows and brownie mix and body spritz. But my cat Spidey is sitting on my lap, soaking all my body heat up. I just want to stay in Chicago. Even though the apartment distinctly smells like the salmon I cooked. Yuck.