Portland entry #3

For years, I have had this fantasy about spending a month in Portland and writing a brilliant novel. Then some competitive thieving jerks moved to Portland and sort of polluted my dream on that. LOL, I just realized that more than one person is going to read that last sentence and think I meant them. Ah, well. I don’t know how some people live with themselves. I’ve done two things I think are wrong in the past like five years and I kick myself for them regularly. Don’t bother guessing. I’m pretty sure no one reading my journal could possibly know both. Correction: Two people do, but they won’t be guessing.

I guess I should make some phone calls and get ready for my shoot this afternoon. Then I’m hitting the town. Rumination on debauchery coming later. Possibly in a few minutes if the folks I need to phone are still asleep. Wake-up call is soon, but apparently I’ve given up sleeping at all normally.