Good thing, as one or more cups is needed this morning. One more k-cup after this, then may have to hit Starbucks if more caffeine is needed for character.
Class tonight. Starting at 5. Will email students soon, as well as make plan for night’s meeting.
Stress pictures of journal and sending them in… Freewriting, the journal and how we learn from our own literature, our own narrative and happiness and humor.
Kids are playing games, 7:58, and me settling into day. Typing on couch. Deciding today to be fully done with that desk. Using it as an end-table, or parking spot for papers and journals, books.
Morning thousand, I don’t know, but a morning something. Hot in house already, still feel the humidity from yesterday. Neighbor said to me that it was like the midwest, and I responded Yeah like Cuba…. Going to miss the humidity, when it’s gone. Giving me a sense of being somewhere else. Traveling as I want to.
Jack asks for breakfast immediately after Emmie asks for orange juice. Jack then says that we should eat here and not waste my money. I thanks him and set cereals and milk in bowl. “Thanks for the cereal, my dude!” He says from the kitchen as I re-settle on couch. Soon as I start typing Emmie demands breakfast accommodations. I tell her waffles are on the menu. She agrees.
Jack has a point. Make this a no-spend day. Sip coffee slow. Only have the two cups so the writer ought pace himself. Manage mood through jots in journal. Bed early tonight, for the love of it all. Kids going to bed rather late last night, so…. When dinner is over,
8:21am. More interruptions and pulls from keyboard.
8:28am. Plan for class tonight, written.
Going to force this semester to be something different. Force something different from me as a writer, as an Account Executive. As a runner, father, human, everything. Will email the students in a couple hours, just reminding them of how the first meeting and all following are to go. Text me for check-in, go to #professormikey website, that kind of thing.
Will have to be at that table to make calls, but that’s the only reason for being there. Any research, search for new businesses, anything else, operated right here on the couch.
70 Degrees outside already. Wishing winters…. Those stretches of snow in Sunriver, on the golf course, walking. Getting bored with Sonoma County, and California. The weather, the people, the roads, where I run, even the wines. My second home should be there. On the coast. Research today, later.
Still on first cup. Bringing car in tomorrow…. I’m contained yet scattered this morning. Trying to get kids away from TV but it’s not working. Refusing to stress over it. They’ll eventually get bored with the cartoons and go upstairs, play or do something. Fucking covid…. Why won’t it just vanish, like it never happened already?
Cup done. Will make another, but putting off so it lasts longer.
This whole thing, covid and even yesterday working home alone with kids and this morning having time to work but the kids numb in front of that screen has changed me. Not sure how, but in writing about people myself being one of them there is something in the Mike Madigan mold that’s not returning, ever, to what it was.