Few minutes after 9 and I’m still not in the AE mode or mood or motion or anything.

Two phone appointments today, one is all but assured to sign.  Can’t think like that though.  Drink coffee, or latter, write books, be happy.

My new plan.  The GSM blend last night speaking to me, wanting to reconnect with wine again.  How though, and I feel like time is limited for some reason.

Want to be in Oregon, Sunriver… talking to self before starting, before prospecting new business.  Should have woke up earlier.  How many times have I written that.  Yeah, don’t ask, I tell myself.  “Idiot…”

Leads group tomorrow.  Still not sure how I feel about it, or even the act of joining a “leads group”.  Already have one lead from it, and a new conversation with an IT guy, but…..  I don’t know, maybe I’m just being cynical.  Happens more and more as I age.

NOTE:  Stop doing your job so goddamn much and enjoy your morning, day, week, life.

Emailed bookstore guy at SRJC.  Will email students in a bit, at some point today.  Where’s my journal—  Oh, in car still.  Will get in a bit.  Aims for today need be written.  Already accomplished one with the bookstore email.

Still not in a sales-y mood.  Then don’t sell I advise myself.  Wow, brilliant.

9:22, again entertaining leaving and working at a Starbucks, or the office, much as I don’t want to.  The anxiety squeeze me with the pressure of an elephant step or lion jaw.

Then I find that the director wrote me a raving endorsement on LinkedIn.  Fuck….  Get into character, Mike.  C’mon….

Lead from an IT partner.  Not sure it’ll go anywhere, but that’s the cynic appearing again.  What is with me this morning?  I blame the shift and all the movement in it.  Getting sick of it, literally sick.

Sometimes I feel I should have just stayed with wine, build the block.  Write wine books and not so much about wine but the conversations, the tasting rooms, the crazy bachelorette twits doing cartwheels on the St. Francis lawn.  I envy my friend Chris, only having his label to tend to.  No qualifying addresses, no running conversations past anyone else.  Just him, his wine.

Wine again not speaking to me much… not showing me anything new or surprising me, seducing.  So then I have to build something new.  Like what… this.  Where I am and what I’m doing with wine.  Will be in the tasting room on Sunday.  Chris’ wines re honestly the only ones that are like meeting new characters every time I taste.  Not that they’re unpredictable or unstable, just musical… like a band having a new studio or jam session each occasion you see them.

10:17, could have sworn it was later than that.  No interest in tech, this internet thing right now.  Change my attitude I know, it’s that simple.  My god I’m a venomous bastard this morning.  Reminded again how short life is and how fragile, vulnerable… LIVE, I tell myself.  Drink coffee and water, and wine, write your fucking books and be happy.