Woke at 4am to run and I did, and here I am on campus sipping coffee I took to-go from office. today, more than eventful and full of story. One of which training a new hire for Sonic and preparing for a talk I’ll give tomorrow or sales approaches and general narrative of the company. I feel my business impact and career building. I see it. And I excite but also temper my expectations of self, and what to demand of self. Writing everything on paper today, not taking the literary lunch I wanted to or professed in the Sonic Journal that I would. I went to Texanita, treated self to a lunch I saw as deserved, where later a friend by the Story’s construction and orchestration walked in, and we talked about business and business ideas, what to do next, and how to be involved in wine’s world and business tangibility but on our terms.
The coffee next to me, getting cold. I will finish it, only to give this writer enough energy to get through a short meeting with English 1A where I’ll pass back some papers, give a HW assignment, one light and not too strenuous or cruel, then talk a bit if needed, then go somewhere for a glass of wine to celebrate the end to this 9th week of the semester. The single digit weeks are done. DONE. Time flies by me with more hunger and rapidly, cruelty than I can postulate, here profess. Maybe it’s not cruelty. No, it’s not. Time is just doing its job, as I am now here on laptop finally recounting my day and thinking of all the coffee I drank, all the tasks I completed and all the notes I took from this morning when I had “open mic” with T to where I was at desk thinking of ideas to tomorrow pose.
22 more minutes budgeted to write in this laptop journal. Thinking I need a new laptop. Yes already. Bought this right after Emma was born. That’s nearly three years. Why not get a new one. Business expense for my #mikemcreate business as well as the #professormikey project. Wait, ‘pm’ isn’t a project. But what if I started something called “the #professormikey project”? Why not. Okay.. added to list. First order, the remaining weeks in this semester. 9 more weeks, I guess you could say.
Tonight…. Urge students to have a ‘ME’ project. Extending from the idea that I’ve shared with hem and at Sonic, in business, that there’s magic in the meta. Always in what you already have, what’s right in front of you.
Have Coltrane playing. Part of this ME project. What I’m doing while doing it. Will get a bottle of wine from Whole Foods. Something new. Tonight I’m a wild wine writer, of some shape, shade, sort, sense. The room I’m in quiet, no surprise. For being up since 4 I’m surprisingly motioned. But wait, it’s the coffee. I can’t take credit. Less than 15 left… no way I can take credit, not even a teaspoon’s worth. Love this room, right now. This song. Next semester is where my sight goes. One class. What was it? A 100 or 1A? Doesn’t matter now. I fixate and focus on me, here in this room, the song coming to its close, me writing and writing, thinking of my book. When the fuck am I going to finish my book? Any of them? At least I’m writing. At least I’m teaching…. Sharing ideas, more so.
12 or so minutes left. Need time to post. A blogger, me. Maybe I don’t need a goddamn book. Maybe that’s unnecessary pressure this writer puts on himself that I should just deject, reject, aside set. Yeah do that. Don’t want anymore coffee. Or yes I do. Tomorrow morning waking at same time not to run 9 miles as I this morning molded but to write. Try and touch 3000 words before I see any sliver of any sun. Need in office early be. Start writing right when there, ready to present ideas, talk to colleagues, listen, build and grow and learn. All of this at a tech company. Still can’t believe it— But now I see it differently. A creative colony…. An expansive think tank if you would. It’s not just a tech company. Not at all. No. It’s… something different. I don’t know. Don’t want to wait my remaining minutes trying to categorize Sonic. The office deserves more than a singular room, box, cookie-cutting category.
Approaching the 8-minutes-left steps. Wine speaking to me, or maybe I’m just more drained than I before forecasted. Wrote in notes for tonight’s meeting, DO NOT JAIL YOURSELF TO A CATEGORY, in the ME project. Categories are excessively definition. Definitely confining. Using rest of time to write, I’ve decided in these final eight or whatever, how ever many minutes. I deserve this.. this freewrite, this sensately rain of types and button pushes after this day that’s only as long as it’s been as I decided to wake at 4am, for the second time in two weeks. I know 4am well, now, and knowing it better, thoroughly and as intimately as I can is a stark stride, aim, vision and conviction.
Leading myself to something, a new story, with aid of external elements and echoes but from my own command and composition. Stomach quaking a bit, I ignore it. I focus only on this room and the chairs in it, the books on the shelves, the business I’m operating and other business efforts I myself decide and fly. Like a new vessel, ship or plane, transporting self to new shelves and books, pages, stories. Budgeting time no more. Now just writing, enjoying the story, this ME project. All me. Where I am in this day, this cold coffee and the Sonic Journal at right, me in chair thinking about wine and dinner…. Wake early again tomorrow. Good. I have to. I should writer a book about 4am. No, just blog it.. that’s sexier, right? Is that my goal, have a ravishing and seductive style and rile to my writing? I don’t know anymore. I’m just enjoying myself, ME.
MY project.
10/18/18