11:06, writing break. Submitted contract and communicated pricing and will probably get out another contract later, tomorrow morning at the latest. And then possibly another one of those small measly ones.
Rand 5.25 miles this morning, finishing just before 9:30 I think. Latte is breakfast and lunch, and I start the day strong. Going again tomorrow morning, vowed.
Dinner reservation, 7:30 tonight. When was the last time I was there…. Can’t remember. Best day of the week so far, pushing aside all nihilism and nay-saying trots. From anyone. ESPECIALLY MYSELF. So note.. that was not a shot at ANYONE, but ME.
Thinking a shower in a bit, then heading to HQ. Need this writing break right now. What am I thinking about… running. The half-marathon in Napa, next month. Oh shit, when in March is it?
Seems like the day is already slowing down. Odd, but welcomed.
So quiet… should I be worried? STOP BEING NEGATIVE, MIKE.
Yes…. Getting up, stretching.
Back from stitch and walk to room I’m staying in, aggrandizing self and sight in this chair, the Nook office, morning different. Character analysis of THIS character juxtaposed to the first three days of the workweek. No sure I have any firm conclusions or theses, understandings…
The self-rankle is the issue, and what to do with it, how to thwart to deter, or pervasively extinguish. Importance of this self-talk pillar, enacted this morning with shooting from the sheets and into running persona. Didn’t get the mile count I wanted but after yesterday’s horrible 1.52 this morning was trophy-worthy.
Mood and mental health, a business… like what Arianna Huffington does with ThriveGlobal. I don’t know… in deconstructive curve and composition this morning. Thinking of everything, everything I’ve done and where I am and how I arrived.. looking at calendar and see the recurring Thursday block of OFFICE HOURS, from 5-7. Still don’t miss “teaching”. Grading papers, dealing with student excuses, all of it. The department bullshit and calling me last-minute to teach a section of 1A or B or 5. No… no more. Now I get to WRITE. Creative… blog for my life and that’s just what I’m doing.
Old quit I used in class one time, shared with students, from Ralph Ellison – “When I discover who I am, I’ll be free.” Feeling after the run, and now in the office here after the contract landed.
How old will she be, my sister? Not sure I should say ONBLOG. May piss her off. Still though, celebrating one of my favorite humans EVER. Her winemaking career is the level and intensity of production and recognition that anyone in ANY field would want. More than admire her or merely wanting to mimic or replicate.
Just helped Dad put up this bird box at the end of a long and heavy I believe steel pole. Was tricking standing it up against one of the fence stakes but we did it. I watched him use zip-ties and then these metal or steel hastening things. Would love a bird box in the Windsor house, if I get it. I find out tomorrow, possibly. Just checked in with my agent to see if she’s heard anything.
I keep thinking about that house and any place I end up in. My writing base, for the next 10+ years or longer, who knows. I want to keep it not so much minimalist but spacious and free…. Uncluttered and unencumbered.
Sparkling water. That sounds amazing. As does a shower. Nap? Maybe…. Or coffee. Keep going, keep the music alive and aloft.