short article, beginning of day

Afar but not Too

Barely have the energy for this meditation.  Definitely not for a thousand word work.  Posted twice to teaching blog, for ‘5’ and ‘1A’.  And now in conference room.  Tired from

this bug I have as well as waking once for Jackie and then later to help change Ms. Emma.  Or was it in the reversal of that order/disorder.  Would give anything for a nap, now.  Right now.  What to do with the time here, this hour before the office hour?  What does a writer and blogger and entrepreneur do when he’s sick but just has to get shit done?  I don’t know, I’m pushing myself, I am.  Coffee refill at right, a large.  And I’m just writing in this conference room.  One of the adjuncts with whom I share the cell just left, asked me if I wanted the door locked or left open as she’s off to get herself a coffee.  Heard her talking to students, and with condescension you won’t feel from my offerings.  She speaks with such authority, as if her writing instruction IS THE(!!!) writing instruction.  The only way it should be done.

I start designing my course, my independent writing seminars and mechanics workshops.. making “developmental English” fun, or at the very least enjoyable.  Or maybe it’s not devel’… maybe it’s to make writing, your writing as the client, stronger, more intended and purposeful, more ardent…

Took a couple notes… now thinking, brainstorming, and I don’t care that not a single student has sought me—  oh shit, or maybe I should.. looking at teach as entirely part of if not a dominant parcel of my biz model, “Writer/Professor at Self”.

Coffee is definitely helping, but the tiredness that I’m sure is inextricably associated with my bug stomps internally.  And I just look back at it and say, “Is that all you fucking got?” Week 8, today begins.. grading to do at home, then tonight prepare for tomorrow, first day with Dutcher Crossing, that celestial stretch into Dry Creek Valley.

This is not me trying to be motivational in any way, or even trying to teach—  I’m sharing that it’s never a dead-end.  There’s always a way to re-start, or re-brand yourself.  And again, I’m only noticing this NOW, 22 days and 2 months before birthday 37.

Just wrote the plan for another lecture, for the ‘Mighty Writer’ course…  I smile now, and forget how tired and sick I am, drink my coffee, toast to Self.  And there’s nothing wrong with that!  Understanding that YOU did something well.  OR, that YOU taught yourself something.

Still in this room and on the floor of this building, now.. I’m thinking, brainstorming on the piece of yellow paper from the legal pad I’m pretty sure I pilfered from the mailroom just across from me.

My betterment, this great consolidation, the one I’ve always talked of, written and posted about—  Now an energy overtakes the ripples of the ill.

Notes to self, on selling.. branding.. a business.. why do I have to EVER be dependent on a check someone else writes for me?  “That’s death,” is my new holding.  I’ll sell me.  Pay ME, this newly structures Self, and live more than I ever have.

My own plans.  My own direction.  Deciding every bloody scene—

3/7/16