Dear Future Me,
I can't imagine we will remember much of today. The only real significant moment in the entire 24 hours was the realization that Thursday is a cock-tease Friday. It's becoming more and more common, I notice, that people in this city treat almost every day with the same anticipatory reverence as Friday. Someone is always doing "Something" tomorrow, and it inevitably involves either coming home early the next morning or not at all. The city is like a massive resort town for disaffected youth and acid-addled elderly. There is no industry here, just the massive silos on the west side that load grain and other trade goods through the massive steel flute of a hose suspended by steel cable. You can see it when you cross the the Morrison bridge sometimes, hundreds of tons of what looks like sand and other times dirt pour out of a nozzle on the side of 4 enormous silos straight into the open belly of a tanker ship that's so big it practically hogs have the river while being docked. From a distance, It looks like a massive icon of the city's infrastructure of coffee shops and bars. As though the silos were a huge pot of coffee and the ships the cup, they spill browns and tans that dust up into the air like steam out of a mocha.
We saw Blue-Green-Eyed-Secretary again on the elevator. Pretty clever to notice she worked two floors below us when she pressed the button. I guess we know where WE'LL be hanging out on our lunch breaks from now on ;)
,PEACE
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