Not taking a pic of it, just it’s in one of those small glass cups with the handle, one you get at the Oktoberfest event in Marin County. This one from all the way back in 2019, when I started as an AE, as an AAE. Me and director Mark went together. Somewhat to prospect, but mostly to say something to Marin, or just taste beer and wine. He drove all the way up from Livermore to walk the event with me, which I appreciated.
Still some writing on phone from yesterday, in the little time I had to write. Chris told me I sold somewhere near $1900. Again, last time I sold that much wine by myself I was full-time at Roth, or maybe even before that at Dutcher Crossing. Next weekend, no wine industry. Weekend after yes. But I don’t consider it industry. Minute it starts to feel like work or old industry days I fucking quit. Try me.
A triple espresso. Not sure why I thought I needed it. 7:24, so not too early. Henry falling asleep with me down here again last night then being brought upstairs by his mother. No more waking except for 5am when I heard him and I thought “Oh fuck, again…” But no. He must have fed and went right back to sleep, letting me sleep and his mother as well hopefully. Much more rested than yesterday. Could’ve gone back to sleep but needed keys, needed some sentences… Had a dream about my old friend Dav, the photog. He and I would exchange letters, long Kerouac and Cassidy letters when he went away to school in MO. Not sure what prompted my brain to summon him. Interesting. In the dram I was about to post something to a blog and was having trouble, Dav helped me troubleshoot the problem then I realized I was late for the online class I teach. Decided to say fuck it and spend time with him after not speaking for years.
Hear someone awake upstairs. Think the kids expect daddy breakfast this morning which means I need prep self for a drive to Skillets in Windsor. Should probably get something for myself so I’m not as famished as yesterday.
I have to ask again, why the fuck don’t I have a finished book? Why am I not on the Bestseller List with Lawson and Irby, and Sedaris? The first I do every morning is write, and if not then I think of what I will when I can. What’s wrong with me? The aim becomes clearer for the 365 project – So now, I think more, and type more…. time soup in this room, not knowing what the clock says ’cause I’m not looking. Maybe it’s the triple espresso. Need make more of these… Thanks Mom for the Nespresso machine. I swear that thing has become like an alter for me, altering my production in the A.M. Beneficially and uniquely. And not sure what kind I just made but it is wonderfully strong.
Blanket over lap, me hunched over a bit and collect ideas about wine – the tasting room my friend owns and lets me knowingly or unknowingly use as a writer’s studio on weekends except for yesterday where I actually sold a shit-ton of wine and signed a wine club, felt like I was industry again but it wasn’t that bad. hmmm….. So what does that mean. Remembering the dream where I owned a wine shop and my friend Jesse came to cover for me one day when he already manages a tasting room in Sonoma, Sebastiani if I didn’t tel you before. In the dream I arrived late, and I could tell he’d had a busy day glasses everywhere none being washed and the look on his face, the shape and color when you’re back and forth between groups, and all by your fucking self. Felt horrible when I arrived, giving him some excuse as to why I was late, but….. Am I starting a wine shop? Haven’t I already with #vinovinevin? What am I doing with wine, I need to decide now.
Want to spend more time with the babies, especially Jack and Emma as they grow. Yesterday missing both games, and I feel like a airy parent. Still do this morning. Melissa texting me pictures which helped, but only reminded me I should’ve been there. Me being hard on self, I know. No more Saturdays, no matter what. Maybe one every now and then with Chris, but after this weekend – or, shit, May 8th when I help that older guy with his vineyard – DONE. Emma last night pretending she started a big pizza business and was on a zoom meeting on her tablet. Sign of the times, the covid days and times, working from home way and general existence. I’ll be ‘WFH’ tomorrow.. calling and emailing, AND GOING FOR AN EARLY RUN GODDAMNIT. Thinking that may be the first thing I do, actually.
7:44, no sound. Henry asleep still thank the maker, as is his mother and maybe Emma. Have to get ready for breakfast trip in a bit.. One thing I want today – start that new blog, business. Not #vinovinevin as that’s already started, but want that blog to be louder and more seen and visited, but…. OH SHIT, I get another idea. Okay… start new blog today – the blog to end all blogs. Tag line or header can be no more than six words (thinking of Hemingway’s six-word short story about the baby shoes…)
NOTE: Be about YOUR words. About EVERYTHING. (#prospectesk blog and business…)
I’m in too much thought, like I took a hike into the Amazon with no navigational equipment thinking “Yeah this’ll work out, I find my way out. Pfffft…. “ Yeah no. Breakfast sounds amazing, like I told Jack last night after dinner still very much started since I didn’t eat anything yesterday (Couldn’t help it, Mom….), and could only think of eggs, hash browns, toast, avocado slices like I now always order on the side. Now all I’m seeing and feeling smelling as well. Nearly done in this sitting I feel, the espresso still wildly active and instrumental in how my fingers move from key to key. honestly I’m amused with my own movement, with the sound here and there, with this word and the next. Like I’m defying natural law. don’t worry, I’m sipping slow, but even with that….
Over a thousand words. Day started. If I can just have a slow day I can hit 3000. Making that the reach goal for every day. 1000 is the expected and reasonable aim. I mean, now the fuck could you call yourself a writer if you see 1000 words a day as demanding or strenuous. Thank you espresso, thank you Nespresso (no this isn’t an ad, I’m not getting paid), thank you MOM for the machine. These words are yours. The day promises, and I listen, react, just not too much of either. -7:56am