You Go Delta

C and I decided to go to New York for the weekend.  We took off early this morning at an ungodly hour, after an evening filled with your typical Chicago send off for my now former roommate.  That is how I’ve come to be sitting in a dismal airport terminal by myself, waiting for C to arrive (she had to make a stop in Philly, something about getting steak or cheese.  She is so Irish sometimes). Somewhere between take off and bargaining with a higher power to stop punishing me for staying up too late, something kind of sad dawned on me.

I will never grow up to be a spy.

I think I’ve known all along, the same way you know when someone is about to let you down or you’re about to vomit.  Still, after my whole super hero archaeologist dream fell through, I think I was just holding on to it as my fall back.  I have been playing this whole interviewing game as of late and I can’t help but think how much cooler my interviews would be if I were vying to partake in the shadowy world of espionage.  How might that go, you ask?  I don’t know. That paired with my lack of subtlety has doomed my career as a world class, sneaky spy.

Shit.  Well, when in the land of hipsters… any recommendations for a good adventure while we are here?