Literally at war with Self and any procrastination or bending time unproductively tides.  Writing irregular as my hunger is the same, ce matin.

Out of bed just before 7 and in shower, out of hour right before 8 and here I am on Famers Lane till about 11 I’d say where I’ll office-switch.  Where… Acre maybe, or maybe Redwood Café, or the Windsor Starbucks.  Deciding now is useless… sip latter enjoy morning watch people come and go from corner of eye.. the relationship and connection to present scene.

Not addressing shift right now, or any new conversation… collecting mind and observations… man walks in in hospital pants and mask, goes to where you pick up mobile orders.  Baristas, how early they arrive… this one new conversation with a nurse, she waking at 4-something to workout and start her day, even posting content.

No regrets with wake time, yes should be earlier but what can I do now.  Producing as much as I can today, standalone projects.  NO such ridiculous thing as too much work.  Dismissing any thought or synaptic blip in head that speaks to such a slouch.