Today: staying in chair, after I run a few errands.  Had a wonderful time in Napa yesterday, but it did take me away from desk.  But what do I expect?  The material’s out there.  Could be demanding too much of Self.  But in whichever categorized event: I’m writing today.  All day.  Yesterday: printed final drafts of 4 standalones, totaling 9 pages.  Tonight, hoping for at least 10 more.  Want the 61 pages printed by Saturday night, and sent to print.  First run: 15 copies.  No more, for present time.

Desk, organized.  Office, mess.  Always something.  Have to skip to storage unit, look for pink slip for Scion.  I know it shouldn’t be there, but space is entirely limited in this condo castle.  9:52a.. Need coffee first.  OR, mocha.  Already had 1 cup.  Tonight, thinking pizza.  And the Alpha Omega SB I bought yesterday.  Little disappointed I went over budget by $0.07, but it was the first of such trips, so I won’t too much Self-reprimand.

Not making it to storage.  Getting mocha then cleaning out car.  Today, my Sunday.  So ridiculous, the skew in days lining up.  But that’s the affairs in the this day.  Nothing else to note, other than it’s cold outside, overcast, shy sky.  Lost a rime last night, and earlier this morning.  Didn’t have a way to write them down.  Won’t happen today, or tonight, as I’ll be armed each second.  Thinking I want this book to be about a 70/30 blend of prose/poetry, respectively.  Love my diarism.  But poetry’s what brought me to written expression.  I still credit It with getting me into graduate school.. writing those fifteen pages over a weekend, submitting them by mail Monday.  When I received that call from the CSUEB English Department, while behind a desk at Roger’s slimy insurance office, I nearly rose, started dancing.

 

Poetry’s my

center,

exterior,

sight,

purest height.

 

I’ll always

with

It

be.

 

(7/17/13)