21

8/23/19.

8:52am.

No appointments today.  On the phone most of the day which I’m in no way excited about.  One close friend moving away to Washington to start new position, at new winery.  New story, new home, Newness.  This new semester, do something different, something NEW with it.  Last night emphasizing what I did on Tuesday night, stressing to be free in writing, be more of a human and less of a student.  My work this semester WILL free me.

Doubting self in this new position, and I don’t know why. Well, I do know why—Things aren’t happening at the rate I’d like.  Not going to hit the street today, or drop in and say hi, leave business cards as I’d rather do. Didn’t shave and honestly I need to conquer my fear or anxiety or dislike of the phone.  Going to call everyone, set appointments.  Do more on media, social and other.

I’m calming down, don’t worry.  And I know writer more about YOU and not ME.  I remember—OH, I wrote ‘I’.  What if I challenge self to eradicate that letter/word/character.  What if I even moderate ‘you’ and just …  Thinking too much.  One, and pretty much the only, thing that one speak said that connected with me and made me move any certain way.  Hearing all these people talk about business and what businesses they’ve supposedly built, has me thinking a certain way about what I’m doing.  Staying in character with more ferocity and consistency.

Doing something new with wine.  But what.  Beyond the goddamn tasting room.  Resource, of some kind.  Every bottle I taste like the Raymond Merlot from last night, soft and consuming, like a love of loves that just speaks to me and the speaking isn’t at all speaking but a profuse singing.  Don’t know what I’m saying.  I’m tired, from the last three days.  Live in my calendar… and there I am using ‘I’ and ‘my’ again.  Switch.  Topic next….