1:36, back home.

Brunch at the Redwood Café wasn’t as good as past visits.  Oh well, I got out of the house which was really my only aim.  Espresso, smooth jazz, nothing bending my mind or mood, me in any way.  It’s up to us how we feel, how we interpret events, and what we do with our interpretations.  I keep writing it but today more forcefully understand my own idea, that Happiness IS a DIY Philosophy.

Holy fuck this espresso is amazing.  Need a new coffee machine, Keurig.  One in the kitchen now I’ve had since…. Jesus, I think before Jackie was born, or right after.  Yeah, it needs to be replaced.  Exciting topic I know… starting to sound like one of those conversations you overhear between moms talking about appliances and bills, their kids’ schools, laundry, making lunches…..  I’m getting old.  What else can I do, but …. Get older.  Or maybe I don’t have to.  I should act more rockstar-y….  Not care as much.  Make it interesting.  Yes, within the consistency of my notion – live more, write less.

Student from a year ago with whom I’ve kept in touch messages me some prompts she found on this journaling app she’s been using.  She then says that her writing is mostly uninteresting rambles about her relationship.  I tell her that it’s not for her to decide if they’re interesting or not, but for readers.  Going to miss teaching…. But maybe I don’t have to.  Work with writers, as I am now with her, this past student.

Espresso really working.  Being kind with its gift.  The students sends me something to read, can’t right now.  Shit….  While driving back from the café, I thought of college, living on campus at Sonoma State and doing homework there, or attending poetry readings.  Want t hat again…. Life, completely literary.  Mom tells me to write about the kids…. Yes, but…. My approach.  Humor?  Serious?  Me constantly being reminded I’m fucking aging?  HUMOR….. that’s where the truth is.  The lessons, the literature.  EVERYTHING, honestly.