After the darkness of my journey back in time, the lights of downtown Chicago were welcome. Even more of a comfort were the lights of my hotel room. They always feel so much brighter than home. (In fact, I’ve taken to turning on both bedside lamps in my bedroom at home to replicate the comfort and safety of a hotel room. Strange, I suppose, and not the wisest thing to do before bed, but I need that light, especially in the winter.)
On this night, I step off the train at Grand, back where I began earlier in the evening. By the time I got back to the room, it was only 11 or 11:30, and Chris was texting me to go out, but I didn’t want that. I was at a different place than I was even just a few years ago. A different place than Chris too, who, despite plans to accompany me to the Art Institute the next morning, would sleep in again and miss it all.
I was in bed by midnight. I wanted to greet the day early, and make the most of a Sunday in Chicago…
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