Office getting quieter. Many gone home. Staying here to get head start on tomorrow. Desk a little bit more organized than before. Only a little. Well, maybe more than a little. Set three appointments today, which isn’t bad. Was hoping for one more, but I have tomorrow and a new set of prospects to hit. My approach to my agency is connectedness, conversation, helping others convert and grow their business. There will be a return, I know. Thinking about how the day started with my late start and rush to a meeting, having a meeting after that with one chap in business and explaining what he does, me writing in my head ideas for my practice. Mothing of mimic, but from the unintended encouragement of the conversation itself.
My P-O-Z Agency is all words. That’s it. All language, communication, the poetic hand in business. Little over 20 minutes till I leave. And before I do, more notes to self. More notes for the meetings I have queued for tomorrow, one in morrow then one at lunch. Keeping the motion not only constant but ravenous. Hungry, a constantly present and pursuing atmosphere and phantasm.
As the office quiets, I want more. I want to explore more of this—where I am and what I’m doing. The decision to leave the wine industry and pursue something different, something new and an equation to solve, or play with, explore. Just see what happens. That Newness, the new experiences craved by writers. And that’s what this is, do note, a writer, of wine, wandering in tech and the internet’s frame and dimension. Not so much to find something, or maybe it is, but to observe and learn and keep observing and wandering. I’m in a stage of my story where there’s more life in what’s around me, the seemingly plain and mundane, that I ever before estimated. This office, this company and its collective voice and steps, its BEAT, its music, has done such.