Chicago Summer

I work.  I grocery shop.  I do dishes and straighten up our little apartment over and over again.

I workout.  I toss junk mail, both from piles of papers and a never-ending email inbox.

I wipe down counter tops and read clinical literature.

I take naps and go to bed early on Friday night for work the next day.

I mean, as every book has a preface, you should know that I don't spend every morning reading in Washington Square Park, every afternoon at Oak Street Beach, every evening biking on Lake Shore Path, or every twilight picnicing at Montrose Harbor.

But I wouldn't consider myself a true Chicagoan if I didn't spend some summer days in such a manner.

The loveliest.