Can only think about class last night.

The bottle Bill dropped off this morning, replacing the corked Pinot I opened a few weeks ago.  Where I’m going.  Quiet house, typing on couch.  Collecting self and relaxed, eased as if promised by the cosmos something amazing today… finding one k-cup in the cupboard, a cinnamon dolce, my preferred over anything.

Last night in class, thrown back into the #professormikey role and rile. Need to find time to grade… not today obviously, but will write students the letter I promised.  Day 10 of the 365 project.  Keeping centered in certain dimensions and dashes.  Seeing clearer my office, this Bottledaux startup… blending all my worlds, the About Everything (AE) role.  Wine, teaching, reading, writing, journaling, kids, family, travel, happiness….  The DIY thesis of monumental manuscripts in one’s existence.  Writing freely.

Thought today would be challenging, or not in favor of the writer.  The opposite though, to my grin and glee.  Entire day, mapped, with some invitation for audible.  9-10am is SELF address, which means writing, blogging, Bottledaux projects.  11am-12pm is prospecting, and taking notes on the prospecting efforts and tries, what works and doesn’t in this covid cloud.  12-1pm is the workout hour, bike in the garage if it’s not excessive in temperature smolder.  1-2pm is business searching, looking for new prospects, business and possible partners.  2-2:30, writing, send letter to students if I haven’t already.  2:30-3pm, more searching, researching.  3-4pm, miscellaneous calls and notes, follow-up, organization, cleaning and composing.  4-5pm is for day’s close, EOD and planning for next day.

Think I have to get the little beats after that.  Then possibly dinner, or shopping.  Get more coffee in house, and wine, certain bites and other mandatories.  Coffee now closer to me. Listening to the Tycho station again.  Can’t believe how this day molded itself, meant for me and plated like some fancy dinner that I can’t understand visually or neurally.  Not fixating and not trying to define this quick quip of a morning.. loving shove.  Me and this music, laptop, coffee, a phone meeting that’s nearly assured to yield a new account.

9:29, still in SELF plain.  Sent letter to Karl.  Starting to get hungry, but ignoring it.  In the 365, noted, “Book.” Before halfway point in semester.  Narrative, happiness, a bit of humor as I said was one of the dominant ideas in the term.  This morning not only instructs but it clubs me with reminders, and certain certitude in my identity and outline, my show and principle tangibility.  It tells me don’t have anymore “downs”.  You don’t have to always be in increase of altitude, just maintain a cruising altitude.

9:35, may go back to work laptop sooner than planned.  Haven’t sipped my cinnamon-sent cup in a bit.  Much better.  Or not better, just collection, meditation with this track, “Hours”.  Missing the noise, honestly.  The kids and their disputes and shootouts while I’m trying to log something in Salesforce.  Engineering… life.  My Now.  From the 365 project to this morning, working in concert with it.

Walking into the car place I thought of having an office in an area like that.. industrial, unassuming, no where chic like Healdsburg, or Windsor, or even downtown Santa Rosa.  Work, your life, your one time being here. Deciding the direction and planet you build and that you continue and perpetuate into and from your story.

About Everything.  Me.  Now.  In the morning.  Kid toys on either side of me on this couch and knowing that the story and I create in colluded code but also autonomously from the other.  Education before the day has left runway.  No distractions, no tangents.  Unusual for me, especially at this age, in the covid days, and now with new fires painting both counties.  Something to study, something from which to work and lace new illustrative denomination.

8/19/20