Posted a couple articles, sipping my 4-shot mocha slow, and over 2 hours and ten minutes left on the timer, 3 hours given to self from self for some time to and for self. Need this quiet, after the crazed morning with Jack and little Ms. Austen. In the adjunct cell, “dead week”, but I refuse to be or act like I’m dead. Mayor Ed Lee, dying of a heart attack I heard in a Safeway. Just reminded me… you never know. So while the writer’s here, I’m going to be here. I’m going to be fully present, fuller than fully.
Mocha getting cold, but I’m increasing in overall climate. Ready to meet with students… need remove my legal pad, take some notes, review notes in these other little notebooks I’ve accrued…. Work on writings I intend to sell. And I do intend to sell, soon, get ahead with my finances and investments. Want to be both teacher and business bloke, investor, maybe even VC but that I think could be too risky. I know… one step at a time. Met some people in the tasting room the other day that talked about wine they poured at their investor club meeting. Thought of asking them to elaborate but then saw I didn’t need to. I can understand it for myself and make it my own. Be my own club.. invest securely, not too safely… but security’s my prime pillar.
Ideas for notes so I put them in the little collection I’ve been chipping away at, sort of, for the past few months. Still over two hours… thinking of going for a walk, getting another coffee, but the cold has me in here. I need stay in the chair like I tell students. If I stay, I later get to play— with my wined notes or other crazy creative courses I choose to do. This morning rewards me for my patience and diligence with the little beats. Writing more freely than I ever have. Not worried about coherence or any other of the principles I promote in class. This could be an article, my third of the morning, or it could just be a freeing write, something much more than an article— more storm and story, thunder and bluster, value.
Jazz in my ears. Need a break… study… read something. Study my past masters.. Kerouac and his thesis of enjoying your life, every minute of it— all minutes. The seconds… when they pass they pass, they’re gone and they don’t care how I’m impacted. What I’m teaching is not teaching but a sharing of realizations as I have them. I’m realizing that I only have so much time and I don’t know when it’s up. So why not be crazy… why not be wild… why not be FREE? I’m not even asking ‘why not’ seriously. I’m just doing it— Went out to get a pen from office supplies, department’s, in the mailroom, or copyroom… what do they call that room?