I'm going to Washington, D.C., Thursday for eight days of drinking, eating, traipsing through museums, and, apparently, freezing my ass off. It's cold up there, folks. Time to drag out that coat I bought in Montreal.
I've been thinking of moving to a bigger city. I've narrowed it down to D.C., Philadelphia, Chicago, or Austin. I'm going to D.C. this week to see if it's a place I'd want to live. I was there last year for four days, but I was there on business, and I was drunk most of the time. It'll be different this time.
I had a hard time sleeping last night. I kept waking up and hearing noises. I was cold. Congested. Couldn't get back to sleep. I remember a pretty good dream that I moved to D.C. and lived in this cool apartment/house kind of thing with a neat staircase up to a second floor and hardwood floors. There were lots of hot guys my age living in the neighborhood and in the same house (maybe more than one apartment in the same house), as I recall. That would be a nice change from Tallahassee where guys are either 20 or 60 or already married or not on the market for one reason or another.
So, D.C., we have a date. Let's see if you fit into my vision of my future.