my Yulupa coffee base.  This morning, one of delays, coupled with waking late.  So my mood is volatile.  And I bite into the sausage and egg sandwich and then I’m calmed, eased in the placement at this table.  Writing fast but not too fast.  Thinking I’m just going to relax and enjoy this slowed, much slower pace.  This morning, no run.  But tomorrow come death or something else I will wake at 4AM like one of the students said he does nearly every morning, writing his final paper on a general Wellness that one can reach through fitness and exercise.

Not in the mood to recite anything today, to repeat and describe and look busy or .. then don’t focus on that my consciousness tells me, and I’m here in this café, quiet with music in my ears and just me and the words, the magnanimous deposition of my reality, written in books for people to love and hate and shun and embrace, maybe even learn from.

New possible writing prospect.. have to do a better job of marketing myself as mmc.  And the business cards, I’ll do that today at work if it’s entirely slow.  Just need to get to my office, and write what I need to, no bothers and no distractions–  I pick my head up and look around the shop and see so many probably going to work, in uniforms (road workers), and others that just seem in a rush, and I feel for them, then a lady walks by with eased pace, nothing bothering her.  And that’s me right now, and for the next 35 minutes when I have to pack my bag and leave.  “Have to”… I don’t HAVE TO, do anything.  But even still, I’d rather be writing, or running on the treadmill, oh that sounds amazing getting in a hurried 7 or 8 miles.

Tomorrow morning, 4AM, me up an on the pavement running the same route I did the other day, maybe a bit varied.  Depends on how I feel, really, what story I want to scribe in my strides so early with no light and barely any cars.  Love that feeling and love the rush, and the slight touch of fear when running that early.  It does something to me, not sure what but it certainly shapes me and establishes my temperament in something advantageous, or at least that’s what I hope to feel tomorrow morning.

Have to call back a prospect, and write some notes for tomorrow’s meetings.. then work on something else, then plan for class.. and all before 6PM today.  Somehow it’ll happen, somehow, right?  Have to finish this entry and market myself a bit, be a realistic entrepreneur– get my family to our farm, our vineyard..

There, did a little marketing, now back to relaxing as much I can before having to be at the vineyard, set up and the bla bla–  A little left in my mocha, but I keep the thoughts in their rumble, in their talk, their momentary symphony, or noise climate, either way it keeps the writer moving, in his movements, so he can move his family to the farm.

(7/29/15)