Having arrived back in Chicagoland yesterday morning, I enter a period of much needed, significant, and extended loafing. Classes do not begin back at Seabury until the 27th of September and so there is little for me to do between now and then. Sure, I've got a couple of odd jobs here and there, errands to run and people with whom to catch up, but nothing large. There's the job at St. A's that'll last two months; during a meeting with the youth workers there they expressed an interest in having the children learn more about Communion, so I think I'll focus on that for the first month and we'll see what comes up during the second. This afternoon I'll be having a meeting to be transitioned into the role of Minister of Ceremonies (MC) Coordinator at Seabury and tomorrow I'll be darkening the doors of the YMCA once again, where I will make myself silly sore and embarrassed for about two months, and then I will be back up to where I was before CPE ended my workout routine.

I also bought a plant.

Noticing a hook hanging from the ceiling in my living room, I thought, "Gee, that sure looks like the perfect place for a plant. But...nahhhhh...I don't need a plant." Well, everytime I've seen that hook (which has been frequently, as I live here) it's seemed empty. So, I went out this morning to buy a plant. Now, I was looking for a fake plant. I can't be held responsible for a live one. However, Target (pronounced with the French intonation) only had real plants, so I had to get one of those. Once before I had a real plant, an African Violet, that belonged to me and my sophomore roommate, Hudd. I took it home to FL for Christmas vacation and my mother killed it with her black thumb. The violet's name was Maurice, and, seeing as how live plants deserve a name, I will be naming this new plant Maurice Jr., though it is significantly larger than Sr. We'll see if he an outlast his old man.

-R