Emma’s 5th birthday. She sings upstairs with this Frozen karaoke toy/device/machine. Not sure how you’d categorize it. I smile and feel sad with her getting older and questioning self if I’m appreciating having a daughter as sweet as her as I should and if I’m missing anything. Perception…. About EVERYTHING, but even more than that. More thought that just textbook philosophy, “Am I getting as much from this very sitting and breath, time with my daughter, that I can?”
Did little during last night’s two hours, and did not wake this morning as I wanted for two hours of production. Guess I could do it now, who would know. Okay then…
Timer started. 2hours of production.. writing only. No photog, no photos posted to any social media. Just writing. Get an email though on work email and have to check it. Nothing important, a sales something, someone selling something…. One of those people that has answers, that can “coach you”. Yeah, okay I say to myself and hear my little girl’s voice again. She loves that it’s her birthday, have only seen her smile this morning.
Headed to Starbucks in a minute, will make self record into notes vocally and transfer when back. Today has to be all written. 3000 words at least I tell myself. READ, Ms. Irby’s book, then Tom’s. Running today… 1 hour, not shooting for 6-something though I’m sure I’ll reach that distance.
Making self do the route I don’t like, and that somewhat scares me. Fulton flats to River, then Barnes. Once Barnes is done then you’re safe, no danger of being plowed over by some bitter Sonoma County redneck needing to get to the freeway as quick as he can and pissed off that some runner’s on the road, RUNNING. How dare we fucking runners. Excited to push self today, to get out there and take my time…. Run as I want.
With my quota met, I can somewhat relax. Collect… make my agency be alive. Move as I want it to. Celebrating Emma, and ideas today.
Back. In chair. I tear up thinking about Emma, my little girl losing her littleness by the day. No voice dictation in car, just wanted music. Some Thievery tracks from the Saudade album. Jack tells me from the other room the he knows how to spell technology, and that he’d like some milk. He then asks me why I never drink Milk and I tell him I’m not much a milk drinker. “You drink more, Dada. You want to have strong bones don’t you?” Good point, I tell him. There’s an interesting goal, I tell myself. One full glass of milk at some point today.
8:41am Looking forward to my run. I’ll have it be earlier, like 11 or 11:30. Looks like it’s going to rain but nothing indicated in forecast. 50% tomorrow, but it doesn’t matter either way, making myself into an all-terrain all-weather runner. No what… looking forward to run, and thinking about running. Why don’t I just go earlier, like NOW. Can’t, but wish I could be like that lady I see running literally every morning along Coffey or up Hopper, sometimes up San Miguel. Running and running as I write, every day and with a pronounced ring of seriousness.