I’ve never been a procrastinator when it comes to big projects. I need to start early and work in spurts. Cramming is just not me. Lot’s of people say they work best when working under pressure — especially time constraints. I think that is bullshit. It’s just an excuse to procrastinate. If something is important enough to do right, then take the time to do it right. This isn’t college anymore . . . of course, even then I refused to procrastinate. I started my term papers weeks before they were due. Any project I felt was important I gave it the time it needed to make it good.
This doesn’t mean I don’t procrastinate. File under anything I’ve written that is Skyrim related. Video games are the bane of my existance when it comes to getting things done. That’s why I’ve been avoiding them like the plague.
Today is the final prep for our move. Megan and I have to get the rest of the packing done today. Which shouldn’t be tough. It’s mostly odds and ends since we’ve been packing everyting for the last two weeks. We’re good about that.
But more than final prep for the physical move, this is final prep for the emotional move as well. This is the day we’re goning to have to say goodbye to some of the people who made Chicago OUR Chicago. I had to run to my editor’s apartment, John Sawyer, (my final bike ride in Chicago) and do some final prep for my films. When I returned, Megan was sitting with Tracey Serve, an old friend of ours. Soon, the apartment was filled with more of our oldest friends:
Tracey and John Serve. Matt Sanchez and Rachel Keller. Drew Korb and his cousin Davis. Meredith Baron. These names may not mean anything to my readers, but these are friends that have lasted and will last through this move. They will be missed. They deserve a place in this post.
As the numbers dwindled and the night went on, Megan was left with Tracey and Meredith — two of our friends who will be staying in Chicago (we have found out over the last month that MANY of our friends will be venturing form Chicago in the next 4 months.) John Serve stuck around too. This is where goodbyes between women and men became evident. None of the girls wanted to leave. So, they all went into the empty guest bedroom and had a moment. I don’t know what they did — I’m sure there were tears. There had to be. At one point they came out looking for a pencil . . .
John and I? We sat on teh couch and watched an episode of Law and Order. We talked mundane, average dude stuff. Things that we would have talked about even if I wasn’t leaving for a destination 2500 miles away. It’s the dichotomy that is funny. Three girls crying and hugging in one room — two dudes lounging in the next.
While this kind of “DUDE” goodbye seems average, I also think it has a lot to do with my persoal experience with goodbyes. This is the most significant move since I left for College. However, as an actor, and artist and a frequent nomad, moving and goodbyes have become a staple of my lifestyle . . . .
That and the fact that I know these friends are the important ones. The ones I will never forget nor ever loose.
When the girls left the room, they had marked their heights on the inner doorframe of the guest room closet – complete with their names and a title for themselves: The Rockford Peaches . . . from A League of Their Own. It was sweet. John and I just hugged it out and said, “See you in October.” That’s for a wedding . . . we’re not playing in the MLB National Championship.