Next 30

Waking up, but slow.  Typing on phone and I think I heard Jackie upstairs talking to Alice.  Had the chance earlier to have an early writing session, after changing Jack’s soaked clothes, but of course…

Interrupted.  Forgot my direction.  My direction now, into shower.

Out of shower.  Today takes off the next 30-day effort.  The last one, which I’m letting die out over the next two days (last day, 18th), was too passive, general and nonspecific. This new sprint– 30 days, 3 pages each day.  And edited and printed each day.  Well, if not printed then surely edited.  Something to sell upon the project’s close.  THIS, will push me closer to the Road.  And with unseen and before unknown vigor, force and elemental fervor.

Bag backed, made self lunch (2 pbj’s), have laptop, and now to get coffee– more energy for this writing and I’ll write all the way to lunch with the journal Mom and Dad got me in Paris a little over a year ago.  Forgot about it, in my desk’s depths, behind books and cords and old winery paycheck stubs.

Want travel worse everyday, imagining my early runs from a hotel along some small town street seeing others walk and run, get coffee and a paper.  I’d return to my room to write for a couple hours to my own coffee before a lecture in a couple hours.  This new 30-day frazzled fray will bring me this way, that way, to New York, back to Paris, to my prime principle.. Spain.

Took huge glug of coffee from tumbler and spilt a bit on chin, shirt…  “Shit,” I said out loud, turned to get a paper towel, none on holder, “Of course.” I again audibly spout.  But I can’t blame anyone–  I mean, I’m standing here, writing on phone.  Why can’t I do it myself?

The the obviousness of this parable slaps me, as if for duel.  ‘Don’t you see, don’t you see?’, it roars.

Yes.  I do.

I’ll do this all myself.

With the last project, it was now that I think, more me waiting for something to happen, or hoping, that the right person would see my blog or some video I posted would go ‘viral’.  I don’t fucking know.  With these next 30, I’ll have a book.  I will sell it.  I will travel.  I will have stories for my babies and wife and family, friends, co-workers at winery.

Now I’m really awake.