Pas de vin, deux nuits

Want the feeling I had this morning, I realized on my 5 mile run.  And not one second stopping.  Ran the whole time.. thinking about writing, the race on July 7th [Kenwood], blogging ideas, my wines, ‘13’s vintage (my Merlot).  Resting here on couch, looking through the couple pics I took on lunch break, the aches set in, especially in knee right.  IT really spoke to me on last stretch, sprint up Yulupa, even bringing me to near-halt, running with motions that stretched the centered smartness from critical joint.  First pain of this tone.  Didn’t know what 2do.  Still don’t, really.  Elevate it?  Ice it?  No idea.

Sipping a sparkling lime water I just picked up from small store down street.  Tomorrow morning, coffee, first motion.  I’ll be leaving to do lecture activities, grading, all related around 1:30p, I’m hoping.  1-on-1’s with students, both sections, to see where they are in the development of their final papers.  Still haven’t scouted books for Fall.  Think I’ll wait till Spring grades are in.  Don’t have energy to think about class, right now.  Just want to scribble random notes on book, the collected pieces composing it.. all the verse I’ve written lately.  Tonight, more.. all to book.

When this piece’s finally released, the world in this writer’s realm’s immediately revamped, remolded.  Tomorrow night, may open a ’12 SB, as it’s set to be hellish in thermometer story.  Running out of breath more so in this entry than I did on run.  Can’t wait till coffee, accompanying session.  Thinking I may do ALL tomorrow pen2paper, thinking of how my friend’s computer just detached from its role, stopped working altogether.  Want to write like I’m in the 20’s, colleagues with Mr. Hemingway.  A REAL writer.  Not some poppy blogger, with pretty media and condescending, over-accommodating visuals.  This blog post, this typing, last for night.  Put water in freezer.  Still hot down here.  Need colder, much colder, sips.

The Reserve Room today, definitely adding to this depletion.  And, I can’t forget, I’ve been up with Kerouac since…  Can’t remember.  Social media, annoying a writer more with everyday, seriously.  Especially in wine’s industry.  Why can’t I just talk about wine, the character in the bottle.. go about it differently.. and dare say, “Artistically?” Maybe I should do a different wine tomorrow night, a red, just chill it a bit when I get home.  No, stick with the SB.  OR no.. that could be a good idea.  That Merlot, ’09, I have down here, in the wine fridge [that’s not on, as it makes weird sounds].  Could be an idea.

Ad on TV, for UC Berkeley extension bases, or “centers,” or campuses [although I’m almost certain they didn’t use THAT word].  They said something like, “Start to build you future,” or something just as ridiculous.  Why does someone need a college to help them with such?  Can’t someone reach dream sovereignly?  Not sure why that rattled my reins, but it did.  The individual pursuit of something isn’t heralded as it should be.  Why can’t one be successful with separated effort?  Now I wish I’d opened something.  Perfect Self-challenge for night like this, succeeding penning.. saved for morrow’s night.  And wine WILL be opened.  Bonne nuit.  -10:30pm