I love Portland. The weather is beautiful, I had EXCELLENT Indian Food last night and then I spent over an hour in Powells (so far). I'm going to have to buy a second airline ticket to haul the books home.  No matter, it's TAX PAYER DOLLARS! Ka CHING! I will call it Fuels Reduction!  Part of the War on Paper. 
I hardly ever buy books that someone wouldn't burn in a venomous charge to rid the world of the Devil's Prose.  I'm doing my part, secreting them away in my home where no one can be harmed by them except me and my friends, or The Damned as we like to be called.

Speaking of which, I have to head down to our meeting room in a few minutes to start my first day of serious first layer pergatory.  The meeting starts at 8:30. I decided that because I knew people would chitter like mad squirrels if I made it start at 9:00, as I really wanted to; there was NO WAY IN HELL I'm starting a meeting at 8, because NO ONE ever is ready before 8:15 – 30 anyway. All that milling around…it puts me on edge. I like a panicked rushing through the door at 8:30 thinking one was Running Out of Time to talk about Minutia.
Last night people kept coming up to me and confirming,
"Really? 8:30? Should I be there at 8?"
"No, not unless you like sitting in the dark alone….like I do at home…" doing my best Sylvia Plath.

It's like that extra half an hour completely threw people off. As if it was so edgy and revolutionary that WHO KNEW what sort of deranged anarchist week one was in for.  I wish I'd hired a homeless band to start the meeting…

Maybe tomorrow. We'll start at 8:40.

 

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