Haven’t been back from the Field for 30 minutes, and

already into emails and messages, submitting the final draft of that contract.

Sparkling water, have to go get kids in a bit, take them to their house and enjoy less than 3 hours with them.  Day off tomorrow, which I still say is as odd as it is generous of Sonic.  

Am going to be writing more from memory, onward.  The fact that I remembered is a victory, using memory to write that I need to write from memory, proving I have memory and can use it in a new way.  The meta and metaphysical value of which is encouraging I realized standing on the front patio or veranda of the Berkeley International House watching students pass and thinking of me lecturing there one day on nonfiction and blogging, journaling the endless benefit to written self-talk.

Another big deal, potentially.  Even though I have tomorrow off, I told Ditter, I’m going to work in morning after my run.  YES, I’m not working out again tonight and challenging the fucking morning hours, and myself.  ONE HOUR RUN, treadmill.  Maybe some weights after, maybe.

Director sends out an email congratulating me and Ditter.  Feels good.  Then think, what if I could have this be a more regular occurrence.  Like people in the company just expect it from me….  Why not?  Definitely working tomorrow, starting “PLAN22”.  My design for the coming year, business.  And other facets of the Mike Madigan story, legend, manuscript Road.

Just what I need right now.  QUIET.  No voices in house, no music, just button pushes.  More congratulations come in, I just read, not thanking them all yet.  Looking out window, then clock and how much time I have before needing to leave.  4:01, about 35-ish minutes.