Was going to write OFFBLOG, but not letting myself. Putting everything here.

Frustrated in one respect, but THAT will be addressed in no post.  Getting past it… was moving too fast, not as connected as I should be to scene, sometimes.  Again, moving ….

Such peace, this hour.  Nothing is wrong, everything is set for me to write.  Not in the mood for the cheater glasses.  I stop, just gaze at the espresso, then out the window, then re-trace yesterday steps…. From Hawley to HBG, the to see Jesse at FC, then dinner in Santa Rosa….

Found a house in search, yesterday morning right before leaving.  I’ll drive by tomorrow, need to call someone… the week already starting. Hoping the big contract lands tomorrow.  It should, then start building prospect bed for ’22.  I say it a million times…. Should have stayed up and worked a little last night.

Friend messaging me again this morning, that she woke at 3 to make a board.  How does she do that?  Why can’t I do that?  AIM:  Wake tomorrow at 4am, go to gym then come back to write— NO…..  I don’t know.  The indecision is crippling me.  Just go to the gym at 4, DO IT.  Then write when back, thousand words at least.  Okay, well, lamented, now let’s see if it happens.

Leave early this morning, leave laptop here.  Writing only in journal….  Real writer in the streets, at Peet’s in Sonoma which I very much plan on doing.  New inner conflagration this morning, with everything – new aims (stated OFFBLOG), conversations, people, relationships, me and how I estimate time… the AE story and how it bridges me to the BDX office.  Mom and Dad, again Time…. Move quicker, this isn’t forever.  Chris and I talking yesterday about narratives and audience, dating and begin single and how certain characters are draw to other certain’s but it’s not law.  There’s no facile 1-to-1.

Need another shot, in a minute.  The double is now talking to my cardio operations.  Seeing an old friend yesterday, her brother passing away years ago and her father and I not exchanging letters in some time.  Her husband, Jon.  Think that’s how you spell his name.  Just realized the little podcast Chris I recorded didn’t record.  Ugh…. Shame, ‘cause that was a great conversation on Dry Creek and what people associate with it, Zin, or Cab, Pinot or Chardonnay, whatever.  Ugh that annoys me!

Caught self daydreaming again, staring at the mountain, the empty espresso cup.  Now full, one shot.  Sip slow, I tell self, thinking about the day ahead, Caddis then my favorite aunt’s birthday dinner after that.  Was going to remark on time and its speed and indifference, but no.  It’s obvious.  The more attention I pay to it the more valid and ruling it is in any day.

Think I solved something….  I’ll find out soon.  Bored with my sentences so I paint the winery picture again, the small tasting room and me pouring for either friends, or family…. Whomever I invite, and yes it’ll be by-invite.  Then the thoughts go stale… fuck.  Chris and I talked about the industry yesterday outside the attempted podcast which didn’t record about how the industry just doesn’t pay.  What can you do with it, with a business culture and consistency that can’t put food on your table.  Interesting… wine has to be not a hobby or side-thing, but just something second to the main manuscript.