To the Petco

It was time. I have been here nearly a week, and had successfully managed to avoid running any errands by car during the weeknights. This has been due largely to the selfish desire to not give up any primo parking spot I may have found on the street after work.

Honestly, I was also uncertain about navigating the traffic of the city streets. But, seeing as how I cut off a Chicago city patrol car this morning (oops!) and emerged unscathed, I was a little enboldened.

I had other motives, too. Atlas has consumed roughly half the polyester filling of his dog bed, and I was tired of picking up clumps of it from not only the floors, but also the, um, lesser end of my beloved pooch.

Plus, I needed to pick up a few supplies to finish getting the aquarium back up and running.

So we loaded up and hit the streets. Everything went well, in spite of a few missed turns. The only real problem I had involved some of the larger intersections, when as many three large boulevards come together in these massive spaces with taxicabs jumping into the middle of the fray, pedestrians eyeing you warily, and everyone inching, anxiously, to make their turn or veer off in a new direction. I don't know what I was so worried about. If I can drive a stick shift in Parisan rush hour, I can handle north Chicago.

It was cool to see some of the neighborhoods along the way, at least one of which I hope I get to visit over the holiday weekend.

Side note: I only lost one fish in the move, and none since the first of the month. This is all the more remarkable given that they went from a 10 gallon tank to a 3 gallon red bucket AND they didn't get fed at all my entire last week in Missouri, because I had accidentally packed the fish food with the stuff we dropped off at the new place on the first. Seriously, if the ASPCA has a watchdog for aquatic abuse, they should be all over my butt.