I’m off to go work on said writing projects. I’ve also been trolling through the internal job postings board at my company, trying to decide where I want to live in the summer of 2006. It occurred to me today that I have a nice cushy job, in a nice cushy city, and couldn’t I just stay in Chicago until… until… until I’m 30?
Hell no. I’ve got a shitload to do before I’m 30, dammit. I’ve gotta live overseas for at least another year, go biking in China, and hike up to Macchu Picchu. This is in addition to getting books published, getting into supah ninjah shape, and bungee jumping off a bridge in New Zealand. As opposed to, say this bridge:
Which I’ve already jumped off (yes, I was very sore afterward).
This is a very busy schedule. I think living in Chicago would keep me far too cozy.