Notes Weighed

Telling self the new year starts today.  

First cup brewed and next to me.  Kids awake and with their requests.  Feel like a skipping CD, one on repeat and doing some annoying shit that sounds like “bleh-bleh-bleh-bleh-bleh”, or on some other hammering word that makes you want to rip the machine out of the wall and throw it out the window.

Emma requests cereal so I rose and got her some, dry so she can eat from the bowl like a snack on the ground.  On the couch.  Declaring separation from that desk/table today.  No more.  I honestly can’t stand sitting at it.  Even in the beach house I’m thinking the desk will just be a holding spot.  I don’t want to be a writer at a desk, but rather writing wherever he wants…

Missing going to the office, or to San Rafael—  Interrupted by Jackie asking incessant questions of Emma – “Emma where you born…. Where is your car…. What are you doing…. What’s your Apple ID?” Part of me gets annoyed and wishes he would just shut up then the other studies his lunacy, his hilarity and worry of nothing.

Moving around more money, thinking of the cottage.  The drive down there, the quiet waiting for me.  This new year, what do I want from it.  And was 2020 the bad?  I know I changed as a character, and to Mike Madigan’s advantage… and as an Account Executive for a tech/internet company/ISP, I learned new approaches that I can apply to writing and write from…. That it’s all writing.  That being an “AE” as they call us lazily not able to spell and sound out the whole word, is really being About EVERYTHING.  Everything should be written, used for your life’s work.  Knowing what your life’s work is, what mine is, surely a take-away from this interesting 365-set.

Starting on this couch, not at a desk.  Coffee working and electrifying me in its own way.  Kids now quiet, and that’s how it goes.  On one minute, then mutes the following.  If I were in the field right now, what would I be doing…?  Coffee, mapping where I’d walk, what offices I’d want to hit, what I’d want to say.  Anymore, I know that NOTHING can be forced.  2020 definitely illustrated and supported such a thesis with a sharp and colorfully idiosyncratic formula.  Working with what is, rather than grieving what is not.

Honestly I’m a little sad to see the year end, and the new one begin so soon.  Today, for me.  With this note, considering the weight of it, of the day, of the current shelter order.  Don’t want to talk about that now.  Just the couch, me, coffee… looking up beach houses or cottages, trying in “perfect beach house for writers”, seeing what appears.  Wishes, wishes…. But now drawing, actualizing, believing, thanks to THIS year. 

Just realized, work…. Tomorrow, and this week.  Last before xmas.  What new habit and attitude should I gift myself.  ME.  How about Jack’s personality frame of no concern, joking more… saying whatever comes to the room complexion and your reaction to it.