I walked to my regular bus stop to find that a man listening to some sort of walkman device and talking incessantly was standing there. I appreciate the bus taking an extra long time to show up. I stood on the opposite side of the bus stop shelter, but I still feared that at any moment this not-quite-sane person was going to try to talk or touch me. And since I like neither of those things in the morning, it was a very long and chilly wait for the bus. I hoped he wouldn't get on the same bus, but alas, he did. And talked to himself the entire ride to the redline. What about, I couldn't quite makeout, but I always assume it's about the government and conspiracy theories. You know, the good stuff.

I blew out my hair this morning, and I'm quite pleased with myself. It looks rather fancy. I thought it'd be a royal pain, but surprisingly, it was easier than expected. Who knew if you followed the advice given in magazines, it might actually result in something good.

It's October, and Chicago is ushering in the month with chilly weather. I am ready for a change in season. A change in season means that I am closer to be living in my own place. It's thrilling and frightening at the same time. I'm definitely ready to be the only one that I clean up after (besides the cat), but it's also daunting all the things one needs to acquire to be a functional individual. Like kitchen stuff and laundry stuff and cleaning stuff and pantry stuff and oh, oh, oh my gosh...so much. It's okay. I will live to tackle it. I will utilize the addicting Martha Steward website and print off her bajillion checklists, and I will be okay. I'll be fine. I just want to jump right into it...right now.