6:43. Been up well over an hour

since going down so early last night.  No RRV mission today.  Need to stay in.  The cold’s assault diminishes but its element is still enough present to slow me.  And I’m in a bit of a mood– why.  Money.  Stress over money.  Need to sell my writings.. enough of this blogging for free and doing anything for free for that matter.  Was contacted by a winery who passed on working with me, bringing me on board, saying they made a mistake hiring who they did and need someone ASAP.  And I supposed to what.. just jump?  It may pay more, but no way I’m leaving Arista.. and this other spot is just a small TR on 12.  I’d be stuck in that goddamn box.  Yes, I’m surely in a mood.  Alice in the shower and little Kerouac asleep.  Today I’m printing.. secret pages for Self and poems and performance pieces.. need the Road.. write lectures for Tuesday, Thursday.. ugh these symptoms.  Shouldn’t writers be immune to anything ‘common’, including the ‘common cold’?  I’ll write all day today, ALLFUCKINGDAY, till I’m driven mad by my own words and have some vendable manuscript and don’t have to worry about money as I know I’m going to sell what I’m typed, printed.. more aggressive.. more competitiveness from ME.

First coffee, in cup and I’m up.. sinus aches, sniffles, and frustration.. but I can stop it and I will by having my first TRUE lock-in.. only writing and only jazz.. no going out for lunch, find something here.. survive on words, have my renewed plight carry me to reason and Zen, Peace…  Namaste.

oh, I guess PS– the coffee I bought yesterday is not flavorful not helpful (even if Med Roast), will only go out to get better coffee, no SBUX trip.