This week went by in a giant wooosh.
And to celebrate the wooshified week and the fact that I am persistent enough with my dull scissors to keep cutting through the red tape surrounding my departure successfuly, I am dining en Francais tonight. A friend of mine from yoga owns a French restaurant nearby and, being that he himself is actually French (unlike the people who are not Mexican and insist in running a Mexican restaurant and naming it “Mexicano” only to serve food that doesn’t taste remotely Mexican, nor, come to think of it, like actual food, and wow, look at this sentence, it’s still going), his food should be pretty good.
So I’m getting dolled up and preparing my taste buds for some bubbly. A week from tomorrow I leave here. And if this week is any indication of how next week will be, I’ll be gone before I realize it.
And on the home front, this I received from Dennis in an email with the subject “Bean”:
“G, I love you and I want you to come home in the next 45 minutes.”
Me too, buddy. Me too.