Left breakroom. Too many voices, noises. Common on Friday, pizza day. No one’s fault but own if I was seeking to be in any kind of quiet. Now at desk. Finishing last piece. Some combination or blend type but mostly veggie. All I’ll eat till tonight’s run, then after may eat something light at home. Marathon coming closer as a co-worker reminds me. Just a sliver over 23 minutes left in lunch. Sparking water, now. Thoughts on what I’ll do for the rest of the day. Thinking of working on language at the door, for the Reps. How this company and what it does is spoken. How YOU, are spoken. Selling self, and far beyond simple and over-repeated concepts and ideals of “personal branding”. Personal Legend, the legend you set before, for yourself.
Writing at the desk, my desk, is a more luminary trek that I estimated it’d be. Leads messaging me from the field, me jealous a bit as they’re in San Francisco, so close to the ocean able to walk to it as I did yesterday on my 30-minute break. In office today. Accepted. I deal with it. More than “deal” with it but use everything in here for my paragraph roll. Journal and phone, sparkling water bottle, other journal on computer terminal (one that can elevate, creating a standing working beat), books and magazines under my iPad which I need to put back in safe. Voices out here as well, me feeling full.
Grabbed a couple pieces of gum from JP’s desk on the other side of my left wall. Chewing, now feeling more heavy and slow from lunch. How many pieces did I have? 4? Fast the rest of the day. Have ice cubes after run, or some fruit. Eat light. Want to be a marathoner as no one else is, and write every day of it. I’ll admit, much of today I’ve had the “What do you write about?” voice in my goddamn head and I’ve gone back and forth in the singularity, exactly what I say. Running… RUNNING. What I’m now hearing, and then saying back for confirmation’s coherence.
11 minutes. Day more than half over. Not much time. Not as much as I’d like but what can I do. May go outside for a walk but then realize I don’t have time, so I stay put here in chair. Have to walk iPad back to back room where safe’s located. No more of that expanded core feeling. Recovered. Coffee next. Then back here, write ideas, more idea. No more new word documents on this laptop. I often talk consolidation but never act in exemplary acts to embody such. In these last minutes, I forget about it, all. The time and the worry, the excessive deconstruction and thinking, the back and forth in my head. Thinking, current foe. Too much thinking just sets me in toxic roundabout. Mom messaged me the other day and said all I need for writing material and stories is right in front of me. In the everyday day-to-day-ness of my day. I’ve noted the same thought and perspective before. This is something I’m already sharply aware of. So why don’t I reflect that awareness. Hearing Mom’s order and kind but candid instruction turns me in favor, my favor.