I really took my sweet time today getting myself out of the hostel. It's an 8-bunk room but there were only 3 of us girls and I think 1 girl left this morning. The nice thing about being a night owl instead of an early bird is that I got the bathroom to myself for as long as I wanted. I even played music which I won't be able to do once more people come on the weekend.
I haven't done much except eat some tasty tacos at Big Star (the catfish taco was the best of the 3), check out Wicker Park (small and forgettable), and lounge around The Wormhole Coffee (80s memorabilia everywhere!).
There's a nagging voice inside of my head that's telling me I should be doing more and seeing more sites. That I should get up early like everyone else and go do something. But fuck that. Not only am I here for a week, which is a long time, but this is what it'd be like if I lived here. Which I thought about doing at one point in time. Why am I pressuring myself to do shit I don't really want to do? I think that's been the toughest thing so far, to tell my internal nag to shut the fuck up already. I'm on vacation.
Life does seem like a dream sometimes. I wonder how much of it I'll even remember. Will I really remember all the art I will see in the Art Institute? Or just that I saw it when I happen to come across this blog or a picture I took? I know that I will remember the interesting characters I meet on the way.
