Days behind on my NaNo effort, but whatever.  I’m writing on, even though I’m in no mood to do so.  Yes it has a lot to do with last night’s election result.  But it’s not an excuse to not work.  I have work to do.  I have a book to write.  Think I may have had too much coffee already, and I bought a 3-shot (no 4-er this morning, not sure I could handle that) mocha and one of those breakfast sandwiches.  Haven’t text self bank balance, nor have I logged what I spent yesterday which I think was only like $2-something if I remember right.

Turning off the news, and on with Hutcherson.  One of my favored tracks, but my mood won’t budge.  How do I make it move, do something, make me do something.  For one, look to the day, what I have to do.  I still have to teach in under three hours, and get in the shower in 29 minutes.  Don’t even want to check how much catchup I have to do, not so much play, to be on schedule with my book.  My personhood needs tweaking, but what does that mean.  Who knows, I don’t know, I don’t know me this morning.  The positive vibes and momentums I promote and procure all the time are nowhere in my immediacy.  They’re not with me as I write at this kitchen counter, with the wrapper to my left, mocha as well, this is a morning I’m not enjoying.  So make myself enjoy it, right?  How?  HOW.  Still have that wine article to publish to blog but that seems so trivial with this new direction the country’s being taken.  Feel like this may be a call for me, to change dramatically, write solely about politics, educate myself further on the workings of this country’s political system.  The jazz slows, calms me with this number by Coltrane, the artist I view as more a musical brother more than just some act that comes on frequently on this Pandora station.  His chords and scales tell me to enjoy the morning— “You’re alive, you’re in a great country, nothing about you or your family will change.. you’ll still love and take care of your kids, love your family, you’ll still be a writer.. do what your dad recommended years ago, ‘Look at this as a writing assignment.’” I appreciate the counsel, calming, but I’m not sure what I want to do I just know something now need be done, and I’ll start with the morning.  THIS morning.  MY morning and my life and my day, my meetings with the students.  There’s promise in this.

Before I get too carried away, I take a small sip from the 3-shot cup…  Check account balance, turn the volume down a bit as my brother just dances around in and with the notes as he wants to.  I’m just entertaining possibilities now, in this Now, with my newest of Nows and all the invitation structured in that ideological architecture.  Now I’m just playing, that hasn’t been outlawed yet, right?