My last day in Chicago

I spent it putting out fires at work (and breathing a that's-not-my-problem sigh of relief every time another fire flared up) and then riding home on a bus filled with fat, loud, obnoxious children who would all make great "before" models in an ad campaign promoting post-natal abortion.

Now I'm home with four objectives before I crawl into bed:

1) Run one last time.
2) Do a mountain of stinky-runner and painty-bathroom laundry.
3) Figure out what the hell I'm going to pack. And then squeeze it all into my handsome luggage set.
4) Get a key to Dan so he can water my plants and bring in my mail and beat off to my porn.

Then, at an ungodly early hour tomorrow, I climb onto a plane and wing my way off to a week-long vacation in Montreal.

The vacation is centered around the VIIe Festival International GALA Choruses, which is a very weird name for a week-long concert of gay men's choruses. My chorus is the first to perform -- we're on Sunday, and we kick off a whole week of singing and exploring Montreal and getting to know gay singers from all over the world just a little bit better.

And I've already packed a pile of work to bone up on during the flight home. I'm just lucky that way.

Anyway, I assume I'll find an Internet cafe somewhere in Montreal and make a few posts about my adventures this week.

Be good while I'm gone. And if you're not good, write to tell me all about it.