4:11 Woken by wind.

Tubs fire style and strength wind.  No warning or mention of this.  At least I’m up tho… went outside to turn down umbrella, did so in panic fashion like I did the night of that lightning storm some months ago.

You should hear it now.  Like an aggressor.  A chorus of bullying spirits.  Luckily it’s Friday.  Hate that I look forward to Friday’s now.  That’s a Covid thing, and a quarantine thing.  Age thing.  Just a thing, but also not.

4:20 Thought is would weaken, but no.  Moreover, it’s become more consistent.  And at times louder.  Going to lay down, try to sleep.

11:05am Thought I’d have a contact inked by now, after call with prospect this morning.  I know, I’m being impatient.  And I’m tired.  Possibly a bit moody, testy.  No matter.  Facing my mood this morning, otherwise it won’t change.

Dropped off wine at Sonic office after taking kids to screen-school, went and got coffee – a 4-shot latte – but that’s gone now.  Should I take an early nap?  Feels like fall outside and leaves everywhere from this morning’s wind, all colors, so feels more like Fall which only makes me want to nap. Lay down, try again to sleep.

I remember after closing the umbrella thinking “Okay I’m up, stay up and write, use this time…” And I did a little, but then defeated.  At first I couldn’t sleep and thought “Just stay up..” But didn’t.

Is there anymore coffee in the house?  No.  Great.  Nearly placed ‘F’ on page there but refrained.  Part of a new resolutions but I’m sure it won’t fucking last.

See?

Last night’s class again showing me I need to stop.  Have everything be here, on page.  That’s it.  Teach from here.  Read it or don’t.  OR…. Teach next semester with that practice and ‘tude.

11:11am You should see this desk, or table.  More than overcrowded.  Of course the stress and urgency in me to clean it all cries and yells and calls to me as Henry does from upstairs, but I ignore it.  Not Henry, note.  Going up to hold my little beat, now…

Kids getting older, more conversational and at times combative.  Most of the time I just laugh it off, and others I’m like WHAT the fuck.

Still haven’t gotten into my reading as I’d like.

Just started a standalone piece… one I’ll submit, somewhere.  Or, post to blog.  Or both.  Comedic wine writing piece, about, well, writing about wine and how often it’s just silly.  I find myself, especially lately, that I stress over writing about wine, even avoid it.  WHY.  It’s wine.

Last night sipping friend’s Cabernet.  Was looking for words, but gave up.  Watched some dumb Netflix show.  What words was I looking for?  Don’t I always encourage students to write freely?  This is what tired thoughts about wine look like, and notice I’m writing more than I did last night.  Talking to self, not the wine, or about the bottle and what my friend produced.  What do I say, other than it was perfect… just want I needed in the closing days of the week, and in the craziest year that I can remember.