Craig, I must tell you that I may be in love here. Possibly terribly addicted. Either way, you are in my life now, and I cannot seem to tear myself away from you. And here I thought that all you had was job ads. Yet, you have so much more. How close have I come to furnishing my entire apartment with assorted used IKEA pieces just because of you, Craig? Very close, my friend. How close did I come to buying a bunny that was trained to be walked on a leash and dangerously cuddly? Even closer, my Sensei of Internet Magic. How soon will I purchase a Craig's List T-shirt even though I have hundreds of T-shirts and no bed? Next week, Craig. When I finally purchase my first car at the age of 40, who will bring this bliss into my life? It will be you, Craig. When my depleted billable hours at my job get me called on the carpet for poor productivity, whose name will I call? Craig! (Followed by a detailed explanation of the need to check for the next free couch or carpet and to see which Missed Connections happened on the Red Line). Suddenly, that daily ride on the L doesn't seem so innocent, and suddenly, I see some connection between myself, as I walk the streets of this city that I love and the thousands of others who walk here with me. Craig, I now diligently seek to spell everything correctly for fear of a communal grammatical retribution in my direction, I look for men with 80's hair driving red Ferraris on Michigan Avenue, and I look you up more than I call my own mother. Should I love you or should I fear you? This is the question that keeps me up at night.
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