My roommate left me for Nashville

Within the past 2 days I have been entirely soaked in the rain 3 times. Only one of those times I didn't really mind because I could go home right away, and ironically that was the only time I should have minded, as that was when I went out to run a quick errand without a bag and an exposed cell phone. I don't think I need to finish that story.

This past Wednesday was my last day working at the Art Institute. I have until next Monday to figure out a way to deal with all this extra time on my hands. I guess with all the extra time on my hands I should go grocery shopping, seeing as I had a serious, almost deadly baking bug in me for the past 2 weeks during which I actually spent parts of the night on the kitchen floor, and the edibles in my apartment consist of remarkably sustaining things like powdered sugar and cake flour. And LOTS of blueberries. However, I did not realize this until I was actually in my apartment for more than 3 waking hours and I wanted to eat something. I opened the fridge and was confronted with this:



Promising, yes? But then I decided to clean it, along with a spill that has been there since the very first day I moved in, and was left with this:




There are three boxes of blueberries and three different jams there. 2.5 packs of cream cheese, and different things. And after cleaning, I didn't even have the stain anymore. Dinner, yes. And it took me about 10 weeks to realize that I did not have food, and that Michal Lynn evidently subsists on air as well.

Interning at the Art Institute has been a bit like my fridge, only the opposite. I've realized I've been left a bunch of great things, like some pasta or chicken, instead of bare bones, or rather, cream cheese. Excellent! I have carried over the metaphor! There were those days I felt like I was wading, where I wondered what it was that I was doing, but that comes with every job I think. So overall, it's been an entirely different summer from what I normally have done, but it's been enjoyable nonetheless. I learned a lot more than I did in sosc, that's certain.

And pictures:


The west vault. You pull drawings from here, but on occasion it's nice to just go in there and sit in the dark.



One of the cakes I made for Prints and Drawings. I was going to reproduce a Degas pastel with blueberries on there, but one can only do so much with blueberries.
The study room, where all the action happens



View.

I can't really make a proper, coherent review of my time at the Art Institute, because right now all that goes through me when I try to talk about it is "wowireallymissitthere" but one day it will come.

That might also be the day when my spacebar gets fixed.