There’s that goddamn sweeper again—
Left office after last word. Farmers Starbucks, tall medium roast. Why do they have to serve it so fucking hot. Lid off, watching its spirit float away. Don’t want it cold of course, but don’t want it at lava level.
Will get into starting new conversations and prospecting in a minute, but I’m focus on a re-write. Of SELF…. How Mike Madigan speaks, his relationships… how he writes, reads, sleeps, communicates, everything. Now far too sprite-like to sleep or nap. First sip of roast and I’m off, uncloaked, immediate and visible and hiding behind nothing and hiding NOTHING.
Coffee still hot…. The steam is endless seemingly, a fly buzzing around it aggravating me, LoFi beats calming me. From what do I need to be calmed? My impatience in getting my own place, the condo off the Sonoma Square or in Petaluma, next month’s quota which is going to be even higher…. Bottledaux coming to life, the shift, kids getting older…. So I guess there’s plenty to be stressed about, but I always ask myself what if I just flipped that switch to OFF? Trying. Right now. Here. DONE.
Do I feel different? Yes. Well, I think I do. The coffee is stronger today, thankfully. Making this my last cup. Again trying to cut back on caffeine, work more from natural energy.
Coffee blogging, while the buzz lasts. Should be prospecting, I know… or starting new conversations. Just contacted a couple people. “There, I worked today…” I say to myself knowing I haven’t done much today with the exception of that contract for my AE buddy. Not sure I want to finish this cup, to be honest….
Starbucks coworkers talking in corner just slightly behind bar.
Older lady walking out with her takeout order.
If only being an AE could be that easy… me behind a counter they come in and order and BOOM a contract signed.