journal

2/1/21

First day of the month, and on offensive.

Logging all calls.  Making project of it in journal.  Reach out and build MY “funnel”.  Keep talking, keep building community, and keep with the P-O-Z/whoso mind and composition.

Still a bit shocked with the drought of activity last month.  Let it go, I tell myself.  Just keep prospecting.  #prospectesk given a shove this morning.  Sipping this caffeine faster than I may be humanly able.  Keep writing notes and letters, communications.  Forgot to post that thought to the professor mikey blog, I just realized.  Teaching break at 10:45.  Plan tonight and write a little to students, have them come prepared with quotes from Lawson, thoughts on the quotes, thoughts on themselves reading Lawson, make it as meta as possible.

The mood is the house is happy, celebratory in this new month, except for Henry who’s groaning and protesting in Emma’s room while on her zoom.  Must be hungry, or tired, or just annoyed with her teacher’s voice and singing every other goddamn sentence.

What do I do first?  An email to an existing prospect.  Chug the latte.  Be more direct.  Not so much asking for the sale or any cheesy shit like that, but just saying “let’s get you set up” or something like that.  Don’t like that either…. Hmmmmmmm.

11:05

Writing in two different places, on the two laptops.  Need to stop doing that.  Think of winemakers and vineyard managers, or just writers carrying their journals with them on walks, on trips, in their hotel rooms.  ONE PLACE, one space for senses and sentences.

Needing a writing break, to distract self from the AE sea, momentarily.  Thought again about real estate… fuck no.  I’m not doing that.  I’m not starting over in any respect.  Using what I already have, make some more coffee.

I should be ‘hangin’ in there’, and keep throwing stuff against the wall.  But you know what, I need a break.  I need some beneficial disruption.

Henry quiet for the moment, in his crib and the mobile playing that over-repeated baby song.

Just emailed a winemaker friend of mine.  Not sure what I’m hoping for other than starting a conversation.  And yes, getting some wines. Zin last night, want to write it but not yet.  The wine was relaxed and like a relief from that Zin stereotype.  Feel like pouring myself a glass right now, hearing my daughter’s teacher in her fluctuating, dramatic, and here and there singing voice.

Wine….  This new label I discovered in downtown Windsor, Bellacana, makes me want to go back. To wine.  Full-time.  But with my own mode and quotas set, pursuits.  Wien and writing like I was told to do so many fucking times. Seriously, why do I have such a problem doing what others tell me? When Dad and I got dinner a few years ago at Monti’s and had that bottle of PlumpJack and he said I should write about wine, and that’s it.  He suggested I stop teaching and only write wine…. “You kinda like doing that…” He said not so much sarcastically but with obviousness as if to gently and lovingly say, “Just do that, and only that… do what makes you happy.” Yes.  Feel like quitting everything, using the cash I have in the little plastic file box, what I use as a safe, and make it my life, life’s work, singular topic.  Writing about EVERYTHING is not a topic, or beat, or identity as a writer.

Just told my winemaking friend Chris, not the winemaker I just emailed, that I admire what he’s doing with his own business and how he refuses to do anything but.  He responded, “Giving up is literally not an option once you get doors open!” Agreed.  Opening new doors, on this new day, new week in the new year.  Writing about wine and only wine.  Any other projects will be stemming from such.

Taking family to lunch to celebrate this new ire and rile, conviction and refusal of surrender or backward stepping.  I CANNOT let myself change my mind.  I won’t.  See my wines, my wine books, wine shop, wine talks and speeches…..  Want to write the book now, in this sitting, on the company’s dime.  Not that I’m mad at them, but with self for giving up so many times, for doubting wine and my wine writing…. Always feeling the morning after a few glasses “I need a break”… no.  Push yourself further into the wined shape and space.