Today on the El, a guy was reading Think and Grow Rich by Napoleon Hill. It made me smile. I own a record of the same book, but it's more of a long commercial for why someone should own the book. Looks like someone does.

When I say I own the record, I am lying. I "borrowed" it before my roommate Brian moved to Japan. I was using it a lot to mix into songs at the time, so I took it. I'm sorry, Brian. I have your record.

This got me thinking. I know people have some of my stuff, and I know I have some of other people's stuff. Here's a quick list off the top of my head:

-some Judge Dredd comic I borrowed from Torin (since 1989).

-the book SNL- First Ten Years I borrowed from Andy in my sophmore year (1990). Thanks Andy, I've read it quite a few times!

-I borrowed Conderacy of Dunces from Ali (1991), and she borrowed some Beautiful South cassettes. I hope she's still listening to them. I only got through half of John Kennedy O'Toole's little tome. Is it OK that I didn't get into it? Everyone I know loves that book.

-I feel really bad about this one, because Keith really wanted this book back. It's an anthology of One-Act Plays (2000). Sorry, Keith.

-Torin gave me a bunch of stuff to borrow; never learning that I suck at giving stuff back. His VHS copy of Armour of God (borrowed in 1993) is in a box in my parents attic.

-a Casio keyboard from Aimee. (probably around 1988 or so). It probably needs batteries.

I'm also pretty bad at remembering what I let people borrow. On Halloween, last year, my friend Chris gave me 3 Cd's I forgot I had lent him. Thanks, Chris.

p.s.
It gets so dark in Chicago, and so early. Yesterday my co-worker gasped at the sunlight, just peeking around the corner of the buildings off Michigan Ave. Most days, it is so dark I can barely see the world outside, only me and my desk staring right back at me. I can safely say I hate walking into the cold darkness after a day at my horrible office job.