These pod chairs, or seat, I have to have one in my office. For me… My office, can see it. I can. I see it without closing my eyes. It’s a vision I not only believe it but find calm and quietude in. I’m there when I think of it.
Hot with this sweatshirt or jacket on. Can’t stop typing and take it off, though. That will cost me. Time. Time. What I can never have enough of. So aware of time, today. Life and its short stint. I choose to spend lunches like this, most of the time. Monday of course, no, getting lunch with Tasha. Yesterday, getting latte and writing a bit in car. So that suffices, partially. But this, this is a true literary lunch. This is what writers, true writers, do. What I’m doing now, a writer.
Thirsty. Want another sparkling water. Wait till after, after the typing and work for ME.
Someone else, in a pod next to me. Heard him turning pages of a book.
Gathering tax stuff…. Thinking of challenging self, again… what I can do till 4/15/20. 2020… makes me cringe. Time. Again. Reminding me. It’s coming. For me.