Quick cup of coffee before heading into Kenwood, to the winery.  Interested to see what they have to say about the PS, 2011.  I’ve never tasted this vintage but I have had one of Boekenoogen’s PS’ before, years ago.  No nap today, surprisingly.  Thought for sure I’d succumb to the urge or pull, but no.  The poetry collection, all but done, just going to give it a quick edit, then send to print.  There, I did it.  No again, again, again till I’m dead.  A writer, poet namely, for LIFE.

Still with my jazz, imagining the people around me listening, smoking which would usually bother me only makes the images more memorable, able to be translated later to paper.

Thinking I might have a small glass of SB while at the winery, maybe on the patio.  I’ve never done that on my day off, since I started working there in mid-2012.  Going through all these pictures and videos on my old phone again reminds me that Time ups its assault on the writer.  And I’ll keep writing, releasing every sentence, phrase and fragment I put to paper, or onto this bloody laptop’s screen.

Bills not paid yet.. well, the only one is that silly parking ticket from the JC.  Not in much rush to pay that, hope you understand.  And now I’m blank, still, stale, with no images to lock Self to.  Ideas in things, people.. like the barista that’s always working at the Starbucks on our block.  She just had a baby, and already back to work.  Many times she’s at the register, others putting merch’ on shelves, then others making the actual drinks.  But she’s always smiling, offering optimism to the early hot cup getters.  Her coworkers, younger and not as quick.  I can only praise her pace, character, wishing I could do that.