4:31.

All notes in from Marin visit.  Now I’m thinking, meditating over next movement.  At desk with cards and notes and little notepad pieces everywhere, like I’m drowning in my own clerical hysterics.  Notes in Kerouac journal, meeting reminder set for tomorrow morning, early.  Not going to be late like I was last week.  Not even a minute.  Will be conspicuously early, rather.

Want pizza.  And a glass of something red.  Or…. White.  Not sure what I want.  Bed early tonight.  Put clothes out, have everything ready.  This fourth day of the not-named, not exactly specific project, I can see things shaping, taking shape, leading me a certain way.

All headed toward my own office.  Not that I’m leaving Sonic, at all.  Actually, they encourage we have our own office.  A home office, but I want mine somewhere outside my house.  No distractions.  Only focus.  Starting with notes.  Notes to self, and notes to no one… just notes with ideas, offerings, postulates and theories, thesis and sentences meant to elevate and self-mediate.

I’m wanting a new project, but I already have enough.  This, me here in the tech office, a wine writer.  More or less done with everything I have to do, but I need make more notes, like those from yesterday.  I near 5 o’clock not wanting to leave when I’m certain so many out there want to leave, want to go home and have dinner or spend time with someone.  Self, a new project but the project that’s always been an apex priority.

Still have to finish story I started this morning, about the guy in his wine shop.  Yes, I decided on a wine shop.  Know where the character is going.  Will stop just after 1000 words.  Have to keep writing, keep in my page obsession, in this office.  Tomorrow morning, write the entire meeting.  Take notes.  Need a new journal as the Kerouac is full, just about. Have one on shelf in home office, the journal my aunt and uncle bought me either two Christmases ago or for some occasion other.

Work.  My work is writing about work.  Finding that one thing.  Where you’re creative, more than just productive. Where you’re free, where you encourage and abet, set your own opportunities.  Work, build, move.  I’m moving in my thoughts and efforts, words to my own room, my own creative enclave.  Tomorrow morning, starting… 4am.  Where my philosophy and beliefs will change, accrue elevation.

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mikemadigan

Writer/Blogger - bottledaux.com

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