#682: Unknown

September 5th, 2016

It was a party. Friends and loved ones and a cake so heavily candled that it looks like wildfire in the photos popping up on Facebook this morning.

It was the first part of a weekend that’s taking me away from this city, this weird addictive city that can’t decide if it wants to treat us well or shoddy hour by hour.

I don’t know where I’m going.

That’s not a deep, existential question. It’s literally a surprise weekend for my birthday. I’ve got a good woman.

It’s a short one today, mostly because I’m writing this Saturday morning while making her wait to start our weekend. I promised I would have Monday’s story done beforehand and I didn’t.

But a thought as I type these words at the start of a wonderful, unknown weekend and you read them on Labor Day, at the end of your own weekend of beaches and grilled meat: I would have wanted to know more a five or six years ago.

I would have tried to piece it together and suss out the mystery of what we’re doing just to prove how damn smart I am.

But when you have people you love and respect in your life, the trust comes easy. I know I’m going to love wherever this unknown weekend takes me.

So happy Labor Day, Chicago. I hope all your weekends are unknown mysteries that, because of the people you’re with, you can’t wait to let happen.

One of my favorite Labor Day memories

The meaning of the day

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