At airport gate, waiting. Originally, a dawn departure.

Hilton at ORD decides that rooms do not need the usual bathroom items, and prefers the full plastic half-assed attempt at a capsule pod coffee maker. Substantial displeasure occurs, events transpire, and now we’re rebooked on flight a few hours later — sleeping in for those hours and have been – words and thoughts – but brain still not really awake. Robin is finding coffees somewhere on the concourse.

ETA, 2 hours till movers arrive, in yet another episode of… “Take only what you need to survive”, and they’re packing up everything else for transit. Countdown to California thereafter.

Goodbye to another location. I suppose that I could say that Chicago was beneficial in the larger sense of existential purposes, and that much was accomplished, sure sure.

However, and not in jest, nearly the entirety of those accomplishments could have occurred in an old military quonset hut located off-grid, deep in the vast stretches of the Northern Nevada desert, preferably near the Ruby Mountains. It’s far more beautiful out there, truly yes, but the pizza is not delivered, and Chicago does have very good pizza. 🤍