11:25. Hungry.

Clocked out for lunch but not lunching.  Cup of coffee to kill any appetite.  No appointments yet for the day set.  Haven’t touched papers.  Not yet.  Was outside, walking to other building.  Why didn’t I get them, then?

Productivity and movement pushing me out of this mood.  Where does it come from?  I know, but not validating it further with a sentence of even a fragment.

First sips of coffee.  Quite the perfect temperature.  Writing to write bottomless from the bottom and top of my mind, my thinking wheel.  Blogging about blogging about blogging…. What do I do with that?  And why do I have so many notes in so many fucking places?  Stapled some small sheets with notes on the 100 days second pass to back page of SW (Strong Words) journal.

Equanimity about this writer, now.  Finally.  The coffee realizes my personality and Personhood.  Speakers group to meet in just a wee jab under an hour.  May be speaking.  And, about what.  I KNOW!  Fear and Loathing, HST, and his writing mode, beat, tell and dimension.  Still a bit sodden, and trying to write away from the emotion or sense.  I’m tired of writing like that, like this… tired of saying I’m tired of it…. So I act in divergence, prepare some notes for the speakers group.  And tonight, concinnating my words and momentary musings.

Not just writing everything down, but capturing everything, as it is, as it now tastes.

Lunch with an IT bloke in a bit. Well, at 2.  Not sure I’ll be able to lasso this famine till then. Maybe I should get myself  a snack.  But what.  This is the writer in the tech office, at the tech and internet, and phone, company.  30 minutes off clock, then to come back to clock in a bit.

Post this to blog, then go to break room and take a …. Break…. Write and post more.  Going all in on my “teaching”.  But I don’t teach, I circulate and generate ideas.  OR maybe I do teach.  IDEA FOR POST….. POSTS.  Plural.  Several of them.  Yes.  I will follow through.