2:55.  The exhaustion is there, from being up late with Emma and then again early this morning, but after a meeting with SB and this newest cup, black coffee, I’m revived and alive, seeing new lines and pages just in the next hour, before class tonight.

CPR/First-aid training earlier.  4 hours worth.  Didn’t know if I’d make it through that but I did, mostly from coffee and certain addresses in the man’s teaching spooking me a bit.  Enough of those thoughts.  In fact I haven’t thought about it, at all really, since leaving that room in the other building.

3:08… Me, an essayist.  Finishing my essay on visions.  Holding to that idea rather than just having a list of “goals”.  You have a vision to which you not just subscribe but imbibe, thoroughly believe and intimately conceive.  You want no pause or reprieve from your vision, what you see for yourself, see yourself doing.  I’m finishing this bloody essay, tonight.  1,001 words, my aim.  Objective.  I’m stubborn in my character aim of essayist.  Singular pieces.  The drive to Brentwood, here in this office and working at this company.  Okay… something’s definitely taken me, thoughts in my cognitive channels and inner-storms.

Vision of self, where the self is headed.  Your visions, more than mere wants or simplistic wishes.  They’re not wishes at all, nor dreams.  The visions are assurances.

One reason why Sonic works as a business and employer, as a business entity, is much from their support of employee visions.  What they want, and how they want to attain their aims.  Something I’m not used to, and I’m not using this place as a platform or bridge to get anywhere.  Destination’s not the objective.  What’s being sought here is what’s already here and its proximity to me.  I’m building from where I am, me the essayist, me the teacher, me the most ME I’m able to free.