Came to Brooks Road to write and now I’m blank.  

It’s the condo I just saw.  Beyond perfect.  Not talking about.  Promised self.

Quick breakfast here, or brunch, then back to Santa Rosa.   Surprised how well Henry slept last night, me as well.  Minus the times being kneed in the kidneys, head-butted in the upper-back, or kicked in the face (this morning). 

Watching the kids interact, Jack doing some reading in new book, then writing.  Emma drawing in a little journal I bought her for xmas, then writing or pretending to.

People around me enjoying their weekend, day off.  Talking and sipping whatever’s in their cup.  Couldn’t think of what to record and put to page so I confess I actually Googled “What to do when you can’t write”.  ME.   The one so many associate with writing.  I’m embracing the block, or stall, or whatever’s happening to me.  Be more like the kids.  When I told them no more tablets or devices they adapted, protested only little.  Little Henry offering no grievance just a smile and walking all over the house the two baseballs or one baseball and another one that bounces, either the orange or blue.

Still need to do Forecasting reports.  Shit.  Meant to do those Thursday, or Friday.  I’ll get them done today.  Monday, in the Field.  San Rafael.  Then Rohnert Park or Petaluma along the McDowells.  Attack Quota…. With sharper retinae and nerves.  Make Quota a non-topic.  Go well past the obvious shrives and circuit options.  I got it.

Again the kids… will see them tonight, 8pm when I pick them up.  Jack this morning reading telling me he’ll continue when he gets back to the house, as well as rejoin the chess game we started this morning before his mother got him.  A near stalemate as I see, him with three of my pieces and me three of his.  Best game in a while, but we haven’t played in some time, so….

Trying to forget the condo. Done.  What I looked up said come to a coffee shop.  Well, here I am.  Where’s the magic.  Find it, I tell myself.  It’s here.  Mother with her kids, group of people sitting in sofa-like chairs, circled.  Think they might be a church group as I heard one of them say “the church” while waiting for this latte.  Who knows what they are, who they are, what they’re talking about.

Disconnect from the immediate space.  Keep thinking about Henry and his attempts to talk, him waking this morning and pointing in the direction of the room where Jack and Emma sleep. He’s more aware.  Of everything.  Me, his siblings, my parents, himself and what he can do, how fast he can walk.

Dinner with Katie on Sunday night….  Chill beats I listen to now reminding me of the Caddis tasting room.  The label I want to start on the side once Quota is made non-issue and I have either the Windsor condo or wherever.  Can’t stop seeing that brick wall, the room as soon as you walk in which would be my office.  

The Account Executive post, or role, character and functionality.  I made President’s Club last year, of all years.  Just as I set self to do.  And now with elevated Quota target, I have to change everything.  Every habit and act.  My voice and writing, the blog itself, all blogs.  The name of the company – SONIC.  As in sound, speed, music, life, animation, PEOPLE.

More to the identity of an AE. Absolutely About EVERYTHING this morning.  I have to be, and play more the kids’ movements and voices unintentionally suggest.  Take more pictures… of the kids, vineyards, wine glasses, EVERYTHING.  Get out of the Nook office.  Tomorrow morning, wake when the big kids do.  And why do they wake so early?  Anyway, follow their model… work in room.


Connection to this Starbucks.  Windsor.  MySELF.  The poetry of the immediate and absolutely sentence of time where I am. Where I’ve been and how I arrived.  Run more intentionally at the Now, noted, written in journal.  Block certain voices and noises.  Have route for day planned – to 12, down 12 to Calistoga, then up and right on Monte Verde.  Nothing less than 5k accepted.