4/23/13, Morning.
8:31am. Yesterday’s thousand would be posted already, but haven’t been to edit. I’ll “post” later. Have dentist at 11. Right from there, off to grade. Going to 12 & Mission. Don’t care what kind of seat I get, although I expect one rather fitting. Little Kerouac, playing, learning music, alphabet, numbers, Spanish. Should probably knock out 2 papers while I’m just sitting here, typing. Jack won’t mind. Yes, 2 papers.. be right back.
9:04am. After grading THREE papers, changing little Jack, I think about how I want today to progress. Excited about the 1A section, I have to again note. Should start writing syllabus now. Want it short, as I’m aiming to have all writing efforts for the Fall term in my lectures. Going to accomplish what I set to with the Fall ’12 term.. have it be the best semester I have ever taught.
Ever.
So, I need to finish this one up. Have it wrapped far before it does, one month from today with finals week meeting, where I’ll just collect final submissions, maybe do a little in-class writing, then release.
Brushed teeth two times in last hour. Don’t want any cavities, as that’ll mean I have to go back in a couple weeks to have it, or them, filled. Such a pain. Literal, figurative. Jack approaches, have to close laptop quick. Persistent little character. Looking behind me, through open blinds.. blue. Bright. Nice day. If I had only one class today, rather than 2, I’d be able to enjoy some, with Kerouac, Alice, Self. Knowing now that multiple sections, while working full-time at a winery’s simply too much. Not sure it negatively constructs composition, but it’s more than I want to do, honestly.
9:39am. Should make a deposit into house account, today. Maybe I’ll go straight to Schwab after dentist, then to coffee house for grading. Or maybe I should wait till Thursday to visit Schwab. Maybe I’ll think about that while the metal points poke into my gums. Ugh, of all days.. well, I had to go at some point [yes, intended pun]. Trying to think of how exactly to play day. Need moment– [360 words.. thinking of revolution, turning around tides, other notions related.. interesting, to me]
… 10:01pm. Back from class. Done with dinner. No wine tonight. Have to be at winery tomorrow morning at 8a, for winemaking lesson, mentorship. So much grading today. Glad it’s finally over. Thursday, more focus on planning lessons, lectures. And, more time to write. Transferring yesterday’s writing to book, since I didn’t finish that 1,000 word piece I wanted to get done today, while at coffee shop or campus “office.” Gone to focus more on standalone pieces that I can market, or distribute, publish, whatever independently. This thought coming to me after reading a magazine, seeing all the “contributors,” independent Artists submitting to the publication, getting paid for their accepted pieces.
Glad I didn’t have that Rosé I opened last night. Need to be in most prime of conditions, in morrow’s early clock portions. Incredibly tired from day. As I get old, the likelihood of me performing duty functions, when spread this thin, eagerly evaporates. One class, enough for the writer. If I did 2 again, I wouldn’t survive. Taking notes, all day tomorrow, while in winemaking lesson. This world, its industry, all the bottles, their contents, provide my material.. MY genre. All weather-willing. Tomorrow, probably mild like today.
My writing tonight, stale, seemingly. No fire, struggle, hurt. Especially after re-reading my students‘ autobiographical pieces. So many of them, seeing true pain, providing such beautiful writings, showing how much real life they’ve lived. I remember thinking, “I haven’t seen anything… How dare I ever write?” I can change that. And I will. With these books, even this “blog.” Ugh, the exhaustion though, tonight, making everything difficult. Dreaming, optimism.. passion, the writing. Should take night’s rest off. And I will. KNOW, reader: more wine explored, that’s my topic; book, nearly done [less than 100 pages to go]; getting more dialogue from guests.. have to.. so rich in humor, annoyance, arrogance; What will my wines taste like in their new barrels? Can only guess. What kind of fruit will ’13 yield for me? Can’t wait. But I have to. What I bloody hate about winemaking.