Brewing coffee, fighting Jack’s hands from this keyboard. Need to focus more on Fall term.. not note anything here, on this bloody blog. Know I have already, but won’t anymore. [Jack walks over to his toy chest.. then back here] Have my document of “academic writings” open at times. in case an idea sprouts. And one just did…
Wrote it in lecture journal, here on laptop. Jack, beoming quite the challenge, with this newfound mobility, independence. Need my own office. Sooner than soon. but how do I get there quick? Coffee just finished, should have a sip. Need it.
Not ready for winery today, being behind that bar. Have to shove Self into character
First couple coffee sips.. much better. But I’m without a thing to write, report– Precisely the reason I need the Road, all the new sights. Made a smaller cup this morning, making the flavors more concentrated, direct. Hopefully this’ll help with such a scribble stall. Hope I don’t experience this tomorrow night, during my writing retreat. Would love to get in a run tomorrow night– Wait, I’m running tomorrow morning, or at least I plan to. So no wine tonight.
Poetry, in this Comp Book. That’ll break this block. I blame this stench’d device. This isn’t writing. Even Jack looks at me with confusion, coupled with disgust. Or maybe he’s wondering why I’m overthinking this so much. I’m almost as bad as wine industry people, how they elevate wine far past where it needs 2B.
More coffee, always the solution. Whenever I make a cup with this new machine Mom & Dad bought me, I think of how direly I need be in my office, be on that 1 path. Soon. I’ll wake early, 7am, play with Jack for an hour or two, then be off to write for 5-6 hours, maybe more.
Living from words.
Easy stroll. But profitable.
“Profession.” Is that what
They would call it?