City of Light

Quick caveat: I been drinking. I BEEN DRINKING.

I received an email from Binny's Beverage Depot this morning informing me that bottles of Viña Doña Paula 2012 Black Edition were more than 40% off. A wine of NINTEY-FOUR POINTS (another quick caveat: I don't know what that means) for only $9.99!

See? I'm not always a liar.

After work, I stopped by Binny's and bought two bottles. I'm already halfway done with one of them and it's only 7:28pm on a Friday night.

So I been drinking and I'm drunk. And I have this uneasy sensation in my gut. It might be the wine. But it also might be the apprehension and regret and excitement I'm feeling. A cocktail of emotions swirling in my stomach.

I'm leaving Chicago at the end of the month.

On Monday, The Richards Group (in Dallas) offered me a job. I accepted it Tuesday afternoon.

Since then, I've started putting the unstoppable force of resignation in motion. I gave my two-weeks notice. Wrote a letter and everything. It started with "To whom it may concern" and ended with my signature. My John Hancock, if you will (see, this is a funny reference because we work in the Hancock building). I handed it to HR and everything. I started cleaning out my desk. I started telling people I was leaving. My last day is Friday, January 16h.

'Numb' is probably the best adjective to use at the moment. And it's not just from the cold.

Chicago has been my home for the past five years. I've learned a lot in this city. How to cook chicken milanesa. How to pay my taxes. How to swim (caveat: I use a snorkel). This city is where I found myself. Where I became an adult. I learned how to clean my oven here, you guys. My oven.

I've formed bonds and connections in this city I will never forget. Not just with people, but with landmarks. Restaurants. Bars.

When people would visit, I would take them to the Bean or Navy Pier or Lincoln Park Zoo and they'd say "It's so cool that you get to live by this!" I'd shrug my shoulders and say "Yeah, man, whatever," but inside, I'd be thinking "It IS so cool."

I have never lived in a city where there's been so much to do, so much to see, so much to experience.

And, sure, the winter is brutal and miserable and makes you want to kill yourself by tying a frozen deep-dish pizza to your ankles and jumping into Lake Michigan. But here's the thing about Chicago. It forces you to appreciate what you got. You gain perspective. The winter is tough, but it makes summer amazing. Happiness is much sweeter after a bout of sadness. When June hits, you can walk around the city without wearing a scarf and beanie and parka. You feel the sun on your forearms, the breeze blowing through your hair and you realize that that's what it means to be alive.

Summer may only last two months, but goddamnit, those two months will be the best two fucking months of your entire fucking life.

You'll sing Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn" at a bachelorette party. You'll get kicked out of a bar for flicking off the bartender because you thought he was your friend (he's not). You'll try to gas pedal at a club with four skee-ball machines only to fall off the stage and land on your head.

You'll do so much and, once you're done, you'll hop on your bike and ride through the streets, swerving ever so slightly because of the Malort in your bloodstream.

I love Chicago. I really do.

And, aside from the city, I've found my niche at FCB. I'm a part of something wonderful, something that I don't think I'm going to recreate anywhere else. I work with three of my best friends. You know how people say they're married to their best friends? It's like that, except we're not married. Well, I am. But not to them. We just work together, but also, like, we're friends? I don't know how to explain this relationship.

We're weird. Professionally. Johnross, Conor, Matt and myself. We get paid to be weird and do weird shit and create weird ads. And I don't think it's going to be like that anywhere else.

So there's that. I'm going to miss those guys. I'm going to miss the city. As much as I hate the cold and the snow right now, I'm going to miss strapping on my ski-mask and biking out in subzero temperatures. I'm going to miss my boogers crystalizing in my nostrils. I'm going to miss the steam emanating from the lake when it gets under ten degrees. I'm going to miss the hot dogs. The pizza. The Italian beef. I'm going to miss Binny's Beverage Depot and their $9.99 deals on great wine.

There's a lot I'm going to miss about this city.

But I also miss my family.

Being back in Houston over Christmas made me realize how much I miss them.

Honestly, this feels like the right move to make right now. Better pay, better hours, closer to family. No state income tax. I'd be able to get decent BBQ and Mexican food.

I love Chicago and I know I'm going to miss it dearly. And there are other cities I want to live in (New York, I'm looking at you).

But this feels right. It might end up being wrong, but right now, at this moment, it feels right.

Here. Listen to this song and cry with me.

One last caveat: Yeah, I realize that the title of this post is a lyric from a song. Yeah, I realize it's overly emotional and angsty. Yeah, this feels like a Xanga or Live Journal entry. But I don't care. I'm sad I'm leaving. Deal with it.