Director telling us to start our weekend now, and that we’ll be paid for the rest of today and tomorrow. So much appreciated, but I can’t stop with this direction I’m in. If I want what I want, truly want it… needing it for the sake of considering this life a life, a real life and not a manufactured existence, then I have to keep working.
Plan for next week…. Stay on phone, on email, in street…. Post more. This week I’ve been thin on posts for my Enterprise/POZ Agency vehicle. Next week, 60 pieces of identity and narrative, story per day. Not all have to be posted, but indeed logged. Will do so in July project, I think.
Everything journaled. Again tonight working, no shows. Wine tonight, something from Westwood, I’m guessing. Wine anymore isn’t speaking to me as it has. Why. Am I bored with wine? Is that what I write about? Or do I just write to write, one of those idiots that says they write about writing. Would that make me an idiot, or is that legitimate. I write about writing. Or I write about me.
Every thought…. All of them.
Sushi for lunch. Sipping coffee now. Why do I complicate writing, why don’t I just follow my own saying and emphases on the meta??
Someone mowing their lawn, or actually weed-whacking, somewhere here in the neighborhood. Can’t tell where exactly but those noises always bother me. Always. Annoyance on an invasive and obstructing opulence.
Just thought of college, this one night where Dan, Garrett, and I went for a walk, late. And I mean really late. Somewhere around 3 or 4am. We walked to the other side of SSU’s campus, in back of Stevenson, and behind what was the commons but is now the wine education building I believe. Anyway, we just walked around, talking about class, people, where we’re going after graduation. At this point we were all juniors technically, and had one more year in our undergrad tap. But it was still on our minds, “What’s after this?” When back at our campus suite, I had to go to bed. Tired, and not interested in just moving around aimlessly about the quads and little villages in Sonoma State’s world. When I woke up, I wanted to study. I wanted to write. Wanted purpose. Not to devalue what I’d just done the night or hours before, but I wanted to build. I wanted a finished product, to show others but more myself. In the library, early the next afternoon, I wrote a paper on something. Can’t remember what. Though, there was an address of intentions and doing something that was valuable to character growth and self-study, in the paragraphs in that paper for Professor Coleman.
Next week, and for the second half of 2020, more writing my AE spree and sea. I’ll write the Flight plan here, and all EODs. All emails… all communications with my Sales Engineer. I’ve done well this year, so far, but June was with nothing. No sales. Not one, and I can’t let it go. I can’t crumble it up and toss into a basket. It’s still here, and I’m pleased with its residency. Learning. Taught by it, and the months before… my now here writing about AE life.
And then the weed whacker again….