me

Next morning at Starbucks on Hopper with a wobbly table, but the best view of the bar, the barista frantically trying to keep up with what’s requested of them.  This morning, only wanting to be with my babies, walking out of Jack’s kindergarten classroom feeling myself becoming emotional, looking back at him with a marker or pen in his hand, holding Emma’s hand as we take small steps toward the door.  Not sure why I felt this sentimental approach, and why I still feel it now.  Guess the writing daddy just wants to be with his kids and not do much else.  And I suspect much of what I’m feeling this morning’s an extension of going through old pictures of Jackie, last night.  He and I walking around the Windsor Town Green around xmas time, when they have that tree-lighting ceremony, or whatever.  I may, quite possibly, only meet with classes today then dismiss.  Part of it having to do with what’s in my veins and heart, head, but just needing a day to me…. Then I have an idea— send them to the library, on a research assignment.  Yes… just what I’ll do.  And this will put us in a better position for conversation, come next meeting.  Coming out of this lull, this mood-stall.  I won’t be doing the kids any favors by wallowing in this whatever-it-is.  The writing daddy has to stay tough, fervent in his touching of the keys at this louder-than-usual Hopper ‘bucks.

Making a project of what I have in my backpack, cash-wise.  Left over tip money and stray change.  That’s what I have till I’m paid from winery, this Friday, the day wife and I head to Monterey.  Looking forward to a run along the levy, the beach…. Looking out at the boats and imagining one of them mine.  I think I have about fifty or so bucks in that small zippered pocket, or pouch.  Need to buy coffee for home so I’m not going out and buying any… set some aside for gas, and I think I’ll be in surplus.  While driving here after leaving Emma at her little, wee brainery, I thought about investing… learning more about money and how to make it work for you, and visually drew right in front of me while driving up 101 all the possibilities in writing about money, and how the directions a writer of money and investing and personal finance are far more multitudinous and expensive, galactic, than wine.  Is this a new challenge I’m setting for myself, or just thoughts on this Tuesday?  Or is it a newly-known and unearthed truth?

Pulled some of the cash out then put it back in, not wanting to be that jerk counting his money in public.  Wasn’t even out for thirty seconds but I’m already conscious and embarrassed.  Let’s say there’s $50 in there.  $7 for today through Thursday, for walking funds.  $20 for gas.  That already puts me at $41.  Invest the rest… $9, to Schwab acct.  The goal of the investing…. To one day have a sizable publishing and media business that will supply dozens and maybe eventually hundreds of jobs.  I don’t notice the table wobbling anymore.  I don’t feel that lachrymose inner-mic and narrative… now I see promise, so much that I can barely remember where I am— Hopper, that’s right.  Did I really forget where I am?  Yes…. The Carmel home is closer.  My boat…. Little Art studio for my sweet little Kerouac… and anything the kids, wife want.  Will provide my family anything, and everything, anywhere…

DIY — Do everything yourself.  Yes, there are people in life you need, but to get everything you want all that’s needed is you, your Self, and the acceptance that you are everything you want and that everything you need and want, and wish over and over for, is entirely attainable, extending from your efforts.  But you need to put forth efforts, intense efforts, tireless effort.  Everything in your circumstance set is a reflection, extension, directive of your efforts.

Do.  All.  Yourself.

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