journal

Only writing here.  No more on the Sonic laptop.  If ideas sprout, then I do what a real writer should do and that’s journal, pen to paper.

Still feel yesterday’s run.  Today’s a off-day for running, so I can recover and do some cross-training.  Feel like I’m ready to get back in bed, not the pep that I should have in the morning.  Sipping coffee hoping that helps.

Jack up, and downstairs in other room.  Not sure what he’s doing.  Emma still passed out from her birthday day yesterday, smiling and in play mode until I last saw her in her bed, playing with one of her gifts.

Just wrote flight plan to director, which honestly I’m getting sick of doing, or sending him anyway.  Maybe adjust audience, make it more about me and just let him know I’m sharing it.  Or, don’t share it with him at all.  This could be the run fatigue talking, possibly.  And my usual angst with the day ahead of me.

Going over budget, yesterday’s expenses for birthday and a xmas gift.  Today, definitely a no-spend.  Re-organizing funds for Bottledaux, and Mike Madigan as a sovereign business and “brand”, or story.  How I can infuse into my AE story.  Just made a couple notes around such.

Coffee now working, the drained feel from the run flees.  Day presenting itself….  Hear the train, wonder how many are using it for commuting in juxtaposition of how many used to use SMART and now work form home.  Still haven’t taken the train, because of covid.  Wanted to take Jack or Jack and Emma to Larkspur and then the ferry into the city, but now….

Wrote a poem, will edit later.  Only writing on this laptop, and in 1948 journal.  Both tools provided by Dad, who last night called and wanted to compliment Jack on his reading.  I’ve always seen my growing beat as a strong reader, reading slow, one word at a time.  Should take writing in the same stroke-set and mind.

Keep telling kids to get ready for school, they don’t ignore me but aren’t exactly responsive.  Then Jack talks back, gets his tablet taken and the togetherness and loose harmony of the morning is dead.

I come back to the table which I refuse to anymore call a desk, finish my note.  Need music… need difference in the day.  Take a step back from the AE story, deliberate next move… next call, all of it.

Next year… something approaching and you don’t know what.  Or, you do know exactly WHAT.  I’ve always thought new years and the final days before their arrival are interesting.  Everything from attitude to insecurities, possibilities and dreaming about certain realities materializing.  Life’s work and thinking about it, and how this next year is one year closer to your last day – and not knowing what that is….  Sorry, my thoughts are just spinning and wrapping themselves around me.  I know that’s part of the problem sometimes, but hard to help.

Just after 9, and I should get into AE role.  Director tells me he likes my approach of filling funnel for 2021.  So then, do that.  Name by name as I’ve been doing.  I guess…

Note to self – Write more wine!!!!

Another – pen and paper… see that INK.