For the first time in what feels like ages, Billy and I both have the weekend off and we don’t have any plans. I almost hesitate to say that out loud, because I’m sure I’m inviting people to offer to fill the chasm. I’m not sure we want the chasm filled this time. It will be nice to stay in the city and do things that only cost no money. I have a feeling we’ll be doing a fair amount of dreaming, and by dreaming I mean planning. Because at this point I think we’ve got our dreams fairly well established. It’s now time to start making them happen. Time to roll out the paper and start making blueprints.
I’m envisioning us walking around in white t-shirts with the sleeves rolled up, sharpened pencils in the front pocket (because all white t-shirts should have a pocket in the front), and visors as we buckle down and make it happen. We’ll both grow some stubble and take out some calculators with long reams of receipt paper streaming out as we calculate furiously. We’ll blare out Metallica to the point that our neighbors have to smoke their whole stash of pot to numb their senses. We’ll get high off the fumes and eat fried chicken and smoke Marlboro Reds and when we are done we will streak down Roosevelt Avenue until we are arrested. When they come to clear out the apartment, there will be news articles about that crazy couple who went mad trying to plan for the future. We will be the coolest people on C-block and we’ll never have to cook our own meals again.
Sounds like a plan.