Two years ago, today, I changed my clothes in the bathroom on the lower level of the Harold Washington Library.
I was coming from work, where I was required to wear jeans. And I didn't want to be wearing jeans for tonight (two years ago).
Because I wanted to look nice.
And the bus let me off downtown. On State and Van Buren.
And I didn't have time to go home.
So I went to the Library. And changed my clothes.
And then I left the library and felt slightly ridiculous about myself, but knowing it was worth it.
And that feeling?
Of absurdity that makes sense?
It hasn't gone away.
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