Been moving quite quick this morning. 

Have to gather the ‘case notes’ I wrote about yesterday, to sell.  Wrote in my little pages yesterday that all these writings and no sales is like a winery, a huge winery that produces thousands and thousands of cases (as I produce thousands and thousands of words) just letting it sit in a fucking warehouse.

Not sure if I’m going in today or not.  Either way I’ll keep moving.  Have so much to do by day’s end.  Still have to somehow find a way to get a run in.  I will… just got off a call with another wine creative… possibilities, possibilities.  Everything’s possible.

Cold in the studio… so heater on.  Need music.

Much better.  So what now… keep waiting to see if I’m going to winery.  If not, then to Kenwod, to client’s.  Where’s my Comp Book?  Got it… in the bag, in office.  Know I said I was going to retire it, return it to the closet, but I can’t couldn’t, can’t.  Brewed self another cup, even though I very much know I don’t fucking need it.  I hate waiting like this… take a breath.  I should be celebrating, I broke 3 pages yesterday.  Hoping to do the same today.  Keep with my stravage though day’s moments and pages.  Think organically, I tell myself.  The present, the story, the move, move quicker than quicker than quicker-than-quick…

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