Unsure what to write, do next.  Still feeling a bit sluggish and definitely a bit of pain from yesterday’s 5 miles, but I’m in the chair and ready to do…something.

Going to stand up for a second….

Back down, I feel myself dive into a fighting posture.  Getting this business off the ground before end of semester.  Keep posting notes and thoughts on prospecting and finding new business.  That’s the epicenter and nexus of the effort.  Being in my own office when this goddamn pandemic is done, publishing and SELF-publishing.  Idea precipitating faster than I can catch or catalogue.

Shave, shower, not yet done.  How slow I’m moving this morning.  May need espresso shot early.  Not feeling the shoves from the latte.  Did they accidentally make me a decaf?  Those fuckers!

Stop.  Don’t be like that.  Restart.  Picture of cords on desk, start day’s entry in 1948 journal.  Notes for Monday’s zoom meeting…

Day 177 in my 365 project.  365 days, minus 177 to get to the office, finish at least two books.  But no more of what will what want, only what is and was.  Jack on couch behind me typing something, time reminder for me.