morning thousand


Got latte for me, 4 shots needed, breakfast sandwich for Jackie.  Luckily Emma isn’t up.  She would not be pleased with me getting something for her brother and not here.

7:39 – Day in Caddis Room, pouring and speaking the brand.  First in weeks.  And this will be the last for a while the covid numbest go down, and significantly.

In yesterday’s quarterly meeting where Sonic CEO Dan Jasper presented on the crisis and how the company is doing, which is well thankfully, he talked about all the project people have taken into their stories as a result of the story itself entirely changing.  Drawing, one employee with like 64k IG followers, others working out and taking up cooking, and other projects.  I’ve written, yes, but I feel like I haven’t changed much.  So I made a list of everything I’m going to do starting today.  Not sharing it here, but it’s written.

Latte sip, overcast outside. Been telling self I’d entirely quit Starbucks and even lattes unless I make them here in house, but I needed this, this morning. To start the day.  Have it be different.

One thing, starting a podcast.  One of the items on the list, I mean.  I have one, kind of, already… but one with consistency.  Get Mike Madigan out there more.  #professormikey, especially. I know that is THE brand and messaging I should amplify more than anything.  Not sure why I haven’t, adequately.

Run at EOD, every day.  Or, workout.  Can’t believe I’m telling myself this as I used to be so consistent with my running.  But, since covid, I’ve fallen away and off. I may be speaking a little too harshly inwardly but I need this talk with self this morning.  It’s fine, I remind myself.  Today is day one of something, and I’m not going to number my entries going forward or being one of those “challenge” projects.  Just telling myself is a day to initiate a new habit, and new way and character mode of character and self and the narration I want to share with readers.

Just accepted, officially, my two English 1A sections for Fall.  Wondering what books I should use.  A couple from last semester?  Thinking only three…..  Want to do Wright’s Black Boy again, and maybe Bell Jar, some Kerouac, Sedaris?  Not sure.  One thing I want to do is have the students use their own writings, their own JOURNAL, as a text to study.  React to self objective.  So, like with me, I’d write something about this morning’s entry…. “It’s easy for a reader to see that Mike values and questions his own voice. He loves writing and pressures himself to write, pressures himself to focus, and is a bit hard on himself.  But, he knows his capabilities… eh knows what he wants.  But, possibly, he wants too much…” Huh, just taught myself something about Mike Madigan, so I guess that’ a useful approach then, right?

Bathroom break…..

Got rid of the evidence, almost forgot.  The wrapper, the napkins.  Emma would have seen that and become a hydrogen bomb of pointed protest.

In this morning’s thousand, I’m back in the classroom.  I’m looking through notes, old journals… I’m more situated and centered in my writings than I’ve been in a while, definitely since this covid shit hit.  Packing bag for day.. laptop, two journals, don’t need pens ‘cause Chris has some in the TR but I’ll bring some anyway.  Looking forward to tasting though the wines, especially the Rosé and Zinfandel.  I know I always have remarks and little sarcastic quips about Zinfandel and Zin lovers, but his understanding and relay of the grape is unique and literary, poetic and merrymaking.  Promising to write the whole time I’m there.  When I’m not talking to people, that is.  Pouring wine or doing glasses.

Going to make a tumbler-full of coffee, for later.  In case I get tired and to quell hunger.  Going forward, no breakfast (which I don’t have ever, anyway), and light lunch and dinner.  Buy more vegetables!  Last night having a veggie burrito from my favorite Mexican spot up the street, and I thought while eating it here, in the kitchen with the kids, “I can make this.” So, shop more, cook more.

Jackie watching a movie in the other room.  I keep telling him to turn it down and to his credit I think he does but it seems to keep getting louder.  Told him again.  Now it seems like it’s going up again.

Emma awake.  Heard her little stretch and yawn sound.  She’s on the stairs behind me, descending slowly.

Now she’s on the couch with her brother.  I turn on some calming tracks, Tycho again, and forward in my morning manuscript here in the quarantine corner, or quarter.  Writing in the tasting room.  Honestly, I hope it’s busy and I don’t have too much time to scribble or type.  Something about that room though, I don’t know.. like a gallery, or studio, like one of those art studios you see in Healdsburg where you can see the Artist working, painting, playing with colors, blending them just putting a though in illustrated for on a surface for the world to react.

“Mike knows he’s overthinking.  He tries to stop or at the very least alter his perspective a bit, change his direction and pace.  He keep writing, sees a finished book on writing, or wine, or running, being a father, education and philosophy, self-education and the philosophy thereof, journaling…. He gives himself a deadline.  Before the semester starts, have a book finished.  What’s it about, he asks himself. He hates that question, but it has to be answered.  WRITING.  Not a book on how to write, but a way of writing, sharing his approaches to the keys, ink, the journal, life around him and how that’s material enough for a book…” Writing in third person snaps me out of stalls, I’m finding more and more in this quarantine age, day, time, story…