Minutes away from 11 in the morning and I enjoy the effects of the latte going into a new flight toward noon. Yes, giving into the urge for a latte, coffee not made at home and I have zero regrets or shame or wishing-I-didn’t’s.
Sent some numbers to a prospect, then resent a contract to another… leads meeting this morning. Won’t be running till later, around 1:30 or possibly two.
Calming self, still feeling the pressure to sell which only comes from me, not Sonic. But still, I enjoy it. Not selling, but speaking and then someone connecting with my words, my ideas, having a some understanding as a result of our conversation.
Call at noon, then another at 1pm.
Organizing corner office, this goddamn quarantine corner. Actually leaving it. Like withdrawing troops, ending occupation.
Call from prospect, wanting to meet next Wednesday at 8am. This month already starting with more life and momentum than the last.
Move weights into garage, clothes upstairs… by EOD, out of this corner, wholly. Need be more mobile going into part 2 of 2020…. By that I mean more exploratory, more lovingly unhinged. More music. Don’t know how many times I have to tell myself that.
Wines delivered tonight from Westwood. I’m not parting from wine. I can’t. Need write about it more, make it more part of my work in everything I do from talking about services and products I talk to the hospitality dimension, or reverse-hospitality as I call it when you’re in a prospects office and being hospitable, kind and asking how you can help them, learning.
Writing during the day, more challenging than it’s ever been. Time an issue, attention as well with Emma going from one thing to another and wanting me to play and talk, follow and watch her. Need to wake as early as I did the other morning, having a thousand words to page before the day could touch me.
12pm call….. Absolutely no interest in it. The guy I’m speaking with is more than nice, and quite interesting being in marketing and the digital side, couple with a bit of media I think. I’m just not in a talking tilt this late-morning/early-afternoon.
Would put on music, but it’ll only be shaken and disrupted by other sounds in the room.. Emma adjusting her chair, the cartoon voices through her headphones, or learning program.
Overcast outside now gone. Not in the mood for running either. What’s with me today, I ask Mike Madigan. No answer, no idea…. Quarantine symptoms again. Showing. And it’s not even quarantined, anymore, the day to day, really….
Not in the mood to write either. The writing isn’t taking to me or talking to me with any interest or urgency.
11:32. Wanting a quick snack, or early lunch, or something. Get up and walk around, I tell myself. Something’s curious ‘bout your character this morning, sir….. Leave the desk, the keys, the screen, phones, work, writing, everything… just for a handful of breaths.