inclining envelope

8:25a, 6/13/12.  I know, I’m obsessed with time.  But so is the wine industry.  And every other Human.  Well, most.  Today, my Monday.  On 2nd cup of home coffee.  Should be rather sun’s surface-like today, again.  Maybe hotter than yesterday, who knows.  Already scribbled a couple sheets in the mini-notebook.  So, with these free minutes, 14 total till my desired departure time of 8:40, I’ll let you know, poor reader, what I’m doing…  Writing.  Think there may be such a thing as excess writing.  But don’t think that this writer cares.  ‘Cause I don’t.  Listening to Thievery, “Amerimacka.” Thinking of my music, my verses.  May post a few to bottledaux, but don’t know if that’s beneficial in anyway.  And, to be real frank with you, my lines deserve better than some simplistic simpleton stone of a web log.  Yeah, so never mind.

Woke up this morning around 4:30-something, but wasn’t in any mood to write.  Didn’t have the obsession as I did last Sunday morning.  Praying–well, not praying, but very much hoping–that wasn’t something I just wanted to do once.  In other words, I don’t want my brain to think, “Okay, so now that we’ve logged that, that way, at that hour, we’ll do it again whenever.” No, I want it to happen at least 2-3 times per week.  Can’t do it everyday, as–or wait, maybe I can.  I want–no, NEED–the random, the crazy, the adventurous…  Where better to begin than rising at the most premature hour plausible?  It may hurt, but the writing’ll benefit from your exhaustion [what I’m telling Self].  Tonight, preparing Self for such.  Objective for tomorrow morning’s session, or semi-sitting [I’ll still be in bed, just sitting up straight, maybe.. or laying sideways, resting on elbow left], 1000 words.  Simple.  That’s it.  But I want it titled.  A standalone scribble.  Or type.

Four minutes to spare.  Victory, I guess.  Real victory is having to leave this condo for my writing office, located just off Santa Rosa’s Railroad Square.  Thinking that’s where I’d like it, now.  But that could change.  And probably will, knowing me.  Should skim through book’s pages before getting in car [which I finally got around to washing yesterday, after Mom & Dad’s lunch visit].

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mikemadigan

Writer/Blogger - bottledaux.com

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