9:55PM. With beer and words in my head, but a lack of energy from day. A day which has been, with any high level of critical impulse, flawless. I mean, today was and still is proving to be perfect. My lecture tonight, energized and multiform. But now, I’m winding down, much I don’t want to. With night’s cap, a Lagunitas, and one of the small windows just by the stairway open, all the cool evening air (and it is surprisingly cool on the other side of that door) in. Don’t feel the usual wind strokes that I mention in morning writings, but I’m eased.
Not expecting tomorrow to have quite the awesome roar of today, but I do want to mimic certain facets and qualities— Goddamn train keeps honking its fucking horn. Better not wake my babies. I sip the Sumpin’ to calm me. Where am I going with my writing tonight? What do I want to say? Wanted to write a 500-word piece about running and what it does for me, how it’s the ‘IT’ that Sal and Dean sought but never truly reached, and how running acquires for me certain settings and emboldenments that writing doesn’t. Running confirms I’m alive and going somewhere, feeling something in a way writing can’t. Don’t mistake— writing is my master passion, above all (except family). Running gives me something to write about, something to write from, much the reason I opened this beer. Celebrate this perfect day, my 13.1 miles. Started with the decision to run a half-marathon. Which I did. And in admirable, or at least respectable, time. Feel myself getting tired, but I won’t let myself stop. But I keep going for what? I don’t know… enjoy a freewrite. Why not? I write like I run and run like I write. Tirelessly.
All these receipts on my desk. Been slacking on my bookkeeping. I’m fine with money, for the moment, but I need to be better about tracking spending, monitoring trends, sequestering funds. Especially if I’m to run and operate a business, and eventually invest in real estate, right? So what have I spent today… $11.70 at lunch, which was a turkey & cheddar sandwich, chips (which I didn’t eat and left in Alice’s car which she and little Kerouac ate), and a sparkling water. Then on campus, I think $4.10, for a Coke, sparkling water, and trail mix. Oh shit.. then there was the bottle of Tempranillo from Imagery, which was what out the door, $24-something? Not that much, but more than I would have liked. Need another sip…
Have to go through the videos I shot at Imagery. Forgot how enrapturing and urging that winery is, especially for writers like me that don’t really want to taste but more just saunter about the picnic tables, reside at one for a couple hours, write, leave, imagine owning a winery, everyday being one to write, sip, nap, wake again to sip, walk the rows, and again.