The best fried chicken in Chicago?

Chicago Eater says about Roister's is definitely near the top, and after having dinner there Thursday, I heartily agree. And it wasn't just fried chicken. There was seared chicken and chicken salad. And it was wonderful.

So were the sushi and pasta/clams we shared as an appetizer.

The best thing about the dinner, though, was seeing Barb look so good. Her skin and hair were glowing. And she was on time! In the decades I've been dining with her, she's never been on time before! Retirement definitely agrees with her.

I was surprised to see her flat as a little boy. Yes, of course I knew she'd had a double mastectomy. But I never really thought about her figure before and she does look different. Relaxed, younger and flat. She's having a second reconstructive surgery -- with up to 8 weeks of recovery (!) -- on Monday.

She was full of news. She and John are building a home near Hilton Head. Sprawling, near but on the water and within walking distance of a forest preserve, which will be perfect for walking the dogs.

They are selling their Chicago home in spring. She is moving away.

I'm trying not to feel abandoned. In fact, I literally blurted, "I feel like you are abandoning me." She laughed and told me I'm welcome to stay in their guest room any time.

Again, the difference in our finances hit home. I mean, here I am, sitting in a condo that needs a lot of work. Waiting to hear how much this year's special assessments -- new elevator and bed bug treatments -- will add up to. Despairing my dirty carpet and mottled living room wall and oh! that bathroom! Wishing, wishing I could pay for it all. Wishing, wishing I didn't have so much debt, so I could wouldn't have to worry everylastingly about job security.

Then there's Barb. Her 3BR home is paid for. Their renovated 2BR/2BA condo in Hilton Head is a nice vacation home but simply two small for all their stuff. So now they're building a third place. Both happily retired.

"Compare and despair." That's what my oldest friend's shrink tells her. I must remember that. Barb's life is Barb's life. Mine is my own and will unfold the way it's supposed to.

In the meantime, I must concentrate on how good she looks and feels, and say a little prayer that this reconstructive surgery isn't as painful as her previous one was.