Up.  But barely awake. Called in/posted morning class.  I need a break, I told myself.  But no extra sleep for the writer as Emma’s downstairs with me, right in front of me swatting at her swinging animals in the jittering chair.  Using today to further consolidate writing efforts and business plan as a writer.  Today I reach 3000 words and have something to sell.  Tired of worrying about money, stressing about it, talking about it.  The mention of bills makes my internals crawl like lecherous arachnids, I hate them.  So today I plan and reshape everything.  Luckily Emma doesn’t need me to hold her or too much doting as she’s fully rapt in what she’s doing, making sounds and staring down the monkey and koala bear before slapping the daylights out of them both.

Coffee.. sipping slow.  Over there on the counter, the kitchen island so I have to rise and get it— need to read today, the Wolff stories, Kerouac’s Underwood, and re-read the Beloved chapters.  Today is about reading more so than writing, in many folds and facets.  Can’t write fast enough, but I better find a way to, I know Jack will be down here soon then it’ll be two mini-beats to this one slowly waking writer.

The police officer over the phone told me to “contact my administrator”.  But what if I didn’t?  What if I so conveniently forgot to let her know?  Who would know?

How has your morning been, so far?  If you’re up that is…  Time for me here in the Autumn Walk Studio, 6:49.  Still no sign of my resident China Shop bull, lively and never-stopping 4 year-old, Jackie.

What are your kids doing?

How many do you have?

Have you had a rushed session like this recently?  Tell me about it…

Profitez de votre journée—

Mike