Ran Lawndale for the first time in months. Did so right after shift. Was on mountain, but didn’t climb it once, from the weather. Did two tours out to the estate’s ruins– But I don’t want this sitting to be wrapped in work. In in the kitchen nook, thinking about my run.. the dampened surroundings, with their darker colors, the teasing note of smoke from someone’s fire. I remember wondering what they were doing, while I ran. The hills didn’t bother me, even a little. Was very strategic, or tried to be, with how I budgeted my energy on this run.. and I kept thinking of the parallel with writing. I wanted to stop, in a couple part, but wouldn’t let mySelf. Like with this book. Accidentally had my collared shirt on, as I changed in a hurry after clocking out. And with my sweater also on, I quickly heated. But the gusts all during my jaunt were comfortable chilled, making sure I didn’t become too sweltered. When on the valley floor, after defeating the hills, I accidentally spooked two ducks, in a thin stream on the street’s right side. It was certainly a mutual spook, as I too was startled. Then, only a minute or two later, I was spotted by two radically oversized turkey vultures, when I was rather close to them. They flew away, and I could only think of them, in a story– I kept thinking, since beginning my run, while running out the winery’s driveway, that this run was a story. My character: learning that he can run well, still, and that when he pushes himself, he surprised himself; that he can do whatever he wants.. this run was his best lecture yet. And he, the only student in this day’s session, was grateful. His new truth bounced in a bold rhythm of invincibility. Felt a couple drops as I neared the winery. Thought the atmosphere and hour were going to reward me for running so well. But no. And I didn’t need their celebratory song. I finished, just as I will with this book. That’s more than I’m needing, currently. I feel the run, right now, I’ll tell you. And it’s affecting my mood. No wine tonight, but that’s not why I’m in slight rattle. Think I’m bothered that I’m only now sitting to write, 10:08PM. I’ll leave home early tomorrow morning, or try, then write in the market’s lot. $20 tip from second tour, today. Right into the Self-publishing pot. Still need to do my budget, section off a couple hundred for the projects. And speaking of my verses, the first chapbook: I wrote a piece this morning, in car, on phone, right before clocking in, while it rained. Wish I had decaf. Could have sworn I did. Just looked through cupboards, drawers.. and nothing. Think that may be influencing my edge, a little. I’ll have one of the cookies in the freezer. Think they’re Girl Scout cookies.. thin mints, and I think some of the peanut butter. Don’t know. Just wish I had some coffee, right now. Please note, reader: I am going to try fiercely to wake at 5AM tomorrow. To write a short story. One sitting. Write something… Don’t want to promise anything, or do a wish list leap. Just wake, write, see what happens.