From The Real Portland
Oh dear. I once again have underestimated how much of a lazy bastard being on holiday makes me. It’s always the same. Preparing to leave: pack 10 journal articles, gym gear, 20 books, a bunch of CDs, and other diverse items. During visit: ignore 90% of the above items unless getting annoyed by them when rummaging through bags to find today’s pair of socks.
Time dissolves a lot on holiday. I cannot remember which day it is without a calculation.
This particular holiday/vacation (or holiday-vacation, if you like unnecessary duplication/punctuation combos) is divided into mornings by purchases of bread-based products. I love breadstuffs, and this vacation I discovered a fricking’ amazing bakery in downtown Portland (The Standard Bakery, for those of you in the area) So every morning, through the snow-caked streets I’ve trudged, for delicious starchy treats.
Yum.
However, all the bread has NOT made me writey. Or music listeney. Particularly. Hence the sort of hiatus. Actually I doubt that has anything to do with the bread.