One grey day a while back I pulled off the highway for some coffee. I ended up in one of Chicago’s more affluent suburbs, north of the Kennedy Expressway. While I was there, the grey drizzle turned into a torrential downpour. Sirens went on in the distance. They sounded a little like Chicago’s air raid sirens, which are of course never used but still tested periodically. But no, it was the tornado siren. Tornado siren! I didn’t know tornados were allowed so close to Chicago. They belong mainly on farms in Kansas. I think there’s a law.

Three weeks and two days ago, I turned in my notice at my work with no plans going forward. The idea was to work on programming projects, travel, and possibly other things, in whatever proportion turns out to be appropriate. I dreamed of getting into the car, stepping on the gas, and driving wherever suited my fancy.