the weight of a pomeranian

A great July afternoon in Chicago: the sun is out, the breeze is nice, and the temperature is well above comfortable.  This is the heat which we will use to sustain ourselves through winter.  A collected and stored solar battery in the soul which can be used to thaw our hearts as the harsh northern wind howls through the streets of concrete and glass.  I will rest in this afternoon some time in January of February when I have decided that I should have moved to the delta of Mississippi and opened a junk yard or juke joint instead of this infernal design career.  It will keep me from leaving.  

I digress.  This is actually about the effects of a small dog on what was already an interesting life.  I need a place to live, and have been looking as much as I can (not much considering I work from ten to six and commute thirty minutes each way) and have found out two very important things:

1) I have never found my own apartment, so am il-equipped, and 2) Jack is changing the shape of my life.  

This came as a shock to me, but perhaps you will understand that not everyone wants Jack around.  I have been looking for a place to live and some people won't let me bring Jack.  I am sure it has nothing to do with his personality, but I still haven't told him because I don't want him getting upset.  Also: Jack kept me out of trouble the other night when I got a tad rowdy.   Let me explain....(ahem)

I had a rough day at work.  It's rare, but I made a mistake and my boss was disappointed with me (sound stupid? I would rather he shouted at me, but he just seems disappointed and tells me it's okay.  I hate it more than anything, and worse: he's an incredible guy) so I had a drink.  And then several more. 

I don't remember what happened next, but I found myself walking with Jack down Halstead St. where I ran into some people from school.  We joked around and then went to the closest dive bar (which has no name, just a beer sign for Old Style).  Jack seemed hesitant, but he stayed with me and kept me from getting stupid.  The bar let him in (probably to keep an eye on me) and everyone loved him.  I shot pool with some strangers and danced with some women I didn't know -and which Jack laughed at me for- and then I woke up.  All I got out of Jack was a disappointed look, and then I went off to an appointment and a day where my head would not stop pounding.  I did discover evidence that I had gotten quite involved in some festivities which I was not invited to, and used fireworks to gain entrance, but I have no other facts.  I did get the bike running, so now I just have to get Jack a way to ride.  

Next post: Jack turns out to not be a Pomeranian, and we get kicked out of Millennium Park, but end up drinking at a nice place downtown.

Right now, I gotta go see if I can find a place to live....

Oh, and Jack says Hi.