Interjournal

Moved over 1,000 words to book idea.  Wrote them over the last few days, and decided this morning, actually right when I woke, that it was too much to just throw up onto blog.  Haven’t had coffee yet, but I’m typing like I did.  Looks overcast, not sure how that’ll affect traffic.  Right after this AM’s 500 words, I’m printing 5 pages.  No [at first, I typed “Now,” conveying just the opposite] more of what I’m planning to do…

Selling wine, I’m finding involves less selling than’s told.  It’s really about connection, connecting someone with a wine they like, or love.  And that, deals with a sea’s worth of luck, who’s approaching you when at counter.  Not sure why I’m exploring this, this morning, but if I want to have my own label, or wine bar, or wine shop like my buddy Dan in Napa, this should always be somewhere in sight.

Still haven’t talked to Katie since her return from France.  Really should get in touch with my winemaking professor sibling, as I need my camera back.  And, now, looking over at Ms. Plath’s entries, I’m reminded of all I have to transfer, poetry-wise, from the little notes, as well as my infecting devil device of a phone.  Right as I woke, typed a moment’s haiku, in the “Notes” section, or app, or whatever.  Have to stop doing that.  Only to paper, I keep reminding Self, but seldom practice.  Time for morning mocha.  Bringing little pages with me, back-pocket.  Hoping it won’t be as hot today. Can’t wait for the rain to come back, much better writing weather.

Had an idea for this paragraph, but I think I may just be getting bored of my voice, my writing, my thoughts.  Can only imagine what it’s like for you, patient reader.  OH, the short stories…  Not telling what I WILL do.  Just going to do.

An office of my own: don’t care how big it is, as long as I have a spot to Self-sequester, to write for 8+ hours a day.  How else would I make a living as one of pen, if I don’t have my own studio, away from fray?  This, my first goal.  If I never own a wine shop, have my own wine label, or embark on the Wine Bar fantasy jaunt, I’ll still be a writer.  I’ll always be A WRITER.  And so, my first official aim [mind you, this is quite significant, for me, to me]: that office, MY office.  Yesterday, my friend Steve said to me over the phone, after I asked him how things were going with his wine bar, with him, “Oh, you know man, just trying to take over the world.” I know the feeling, I thought, and responded.  With my office, I’d be able to, FINALLY, take over MY world.  Off to get coffee.  Hopefully Stacey will have the beer her husband acquired for me, after the last 12 pack she left at work was removed by the clowns that do their nightly deliveries.  “Who would do something like that?” I asked her, still ask mySelf.  Okay, leaving.  Seriously, this time.

(7/5/12)