new job apartment hunting new life
when i close my eyes, i see the numbers on the NASDAQ level two trading screen, blinking and scrolling at the pace of a million money hungry hands.
My crazy, beautiful friend C, the one from childhood will be moving into an apartment with me in less than two weeks. For her it will be a spontaneous cross country move, leaving the stable for some big city uncertainty. For me, it will mean my fourth apartment in Chicago in three months. Ah, the post college life, half-way between that of a beggar and yuppie.
Tac was the only person that kept me from going crazy these last few months, a constant source of comfort and distraction. The servers of diaryland cannot handle the words to describe the last four months, not even the last poignant fortnight. Someday I hope to be eloquent enough to represent the pleasureable, surrealist, eccentric experience.
So I walked him as far as the airport security would let me, and watched from behind the plexiglass, with Mos Def's "The Beggar" blasting in my ears. I watched as a random privacy violation was conducted, laughed to myself as he took off his shoes, opened his bags, and generally got real salty. I waited until he walked down the terminal and waved one last time before I turned to leave, when I noticed a last kiss still warm on my lips, and a cartoonish tear dangling from my eye.
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