The World According to Gio

Ahhhh. You know you're home when you step off the BART in Berkeley (because somebody refuses to drive to San Francisco) and somebody grabs your bag, says, "I fucking hate Berkeley," and starts dragging you down the street in one single breath, only to launch into a tirade of, "And for a moment there I thought the cheesesteak shop had closed and I would have to drive all the way back home to cry, but then I realized I was on the wrong street, and did I mention I hate Berkeley? I think I'm allergic to it."

Anyway, I'm home safe. I need to unpack, open several week's worth of mail and deal with overflowing inboxes and so on, but all of that can probably wait until tomorrow. I'm going to bed.