Scott Schmedes’ dream. I have not seen Scott in 49 years. We were class pals in 1976, but after graduation, I never saw him again. But there he was in my dream the other night, and he hadn’t changed much just an older version of what I remembered from 1976. I do hope he’s doing well. I’m sure he is.

I am at work now playing a Pet Shop Boys playlist, Left to My Own Devices is playing and I am remembering being in a car with Ulysses and driving from Queens to Manhattan to perhaps Secaucus, coming down from the night before, a few hours of twitchy sleep, and listening to the Trevor Horn production.

I am supposed to shoot photographs with Mike on Saturday, and I am looking at Saturday afternoon, and I am not sure if Mike is on the same time frame as I am, but we shall see. I have not communicated with him with regards to the time that I am thinking, 2:00 p.m. and I have no idea what he is thinking, as usual

It is a cloudy gray day this Wednesday, September 17th. There was the initial flush at work of requests cuz they have all been filled, so now we wait for the rest. Some of my guests have come in, so I’m guessing everything is going smoothly. I have even picked up some other things that were lying by the wayside from other people.

So the cloudy gray day has turned into a rainy gray day. The thing I’ve been doing at lunch time is going outside and enjoying a small cigar, not a mini cigar, but a small cigar, and I was hoping to do the same today. Looking east, it looks dry, but looking north, the window is coated with rain, and that has made the decision for me.

It’s not the end of the worl,d I will adapt as I generally do. Bill is driving people around in this weather, and I hope he’s very cautious and I know he is. I’m sitting at my desk listening to Paul McCartney. I suppose I can go elsewhere for lunch and sit somewhere else, but the most comfortable here, so here’s why I remain

I was thinking of Dais,y the woman I used to work with, when I had a job at Bratty McGrotty. She sent me a birthday greeting last week, and it was nice at I replied with it thank you and that’s it. I hope they’re treating her well at that hellhole, but I have no idea. I say listen to Paul McCartney, I am hearing some contemporary hip hop things, and as I wrote that, they stopped. And now Eminem is playing quite loudly and arrogantly as only Eminem can be.

Eminem drops off, Paul McCartney continues, and I am still sitting at my desk talking into my phone and dictating my notes, which I will edit later on tonight when I get home because that’s how I do things yo.

Sheff G and Sleepy Hallow are here with a crew of over a dozen. Nice guys mainly, but fans of L’Orange Merde it seems. So that’s like minus a million points for Slytherin.