Day 7, 8/1/17. Up, going, a little late. Will finish grading today, later, and put a harsh dent in book. No coffee in house, I noticed, so I may just fly over to Hopper and get one. Had $0.50 “refill” yesterday in tumbler rather than my tempted mocha. This morning I’ll treat Self to mocha, maybe. Need something today, not sure what.. just woke feeling drained, and I’m sure it’s yesterday’s inventory at winery, my first. The process, though, I must say, was rather fluid. But yes, I’m tired this morning. A day off from wine life but not at all from teaching and writing. Teaching myself not to succumb to stress, and not think about wha tI have to do, take some inventory in head. Rather, just do it.
Wife still asleep with Emma in her arms, and Jack and I are down here. Cleaning ladies get here shortly… The to-do’s just pile and pile, and I tell myself to just “go with the flow” or not worry, teaching myself to not stress is the hardest class I think I’ve taken, ever… ever ever. The grading will get done… stuff for winery will get done. It’ll all get done.
Sometimes you have to tell yourself that. You can control your life, and what transpires in the sequencing scenes, but only to a certain degree. And that’s what life is… living it, not so much controlling it. ‘Take the ride’, Hunter said, oui? So that’s what I’m doing, living. Enjoying the ride.
Little Kerouac tells me he’s still hungry and that he’s going to make himself two waffles. I tell him only one and he tries to debate, starting with the strategy of antagonism— mimicking everything I say in hopes it pushes me to surrender. I yawn, as he halts in his assault, realizing I need more coffee. More? I need SOME.