sheets and pillow at 8:20-something I believe.  Quick meditation, then get laundry from its area.  Still not done, but with clothes for day.  Make coffee, in shower, now some time in Nook. Rain not yet arrived.  Craving latte, some time at the Peet’s on Broadway.

Thinking about the week ahead, Quota, finally seeing my kids. FINALLY.

On drive to Sonoma, book reading only.  Thinking either Sedaris, or something else… like who.  Who do I see myself as today?  Kerouac, no doubt.  My own beat and form of poetics, disembodied or not.  Together here with new composition and conviction…. Conviction in what.  Good question.  Writing in the morning like I always do?  NO.

That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.. break pattern and habit.  Do shit differently.

How I want to be remembered…. I know, not the most happy and exciting of topics, but I’ve noticed on World News on whatever channel when someone famous dies the cut to an old interview where they’re asked how they want to be remembered….

So… do I have an answer?

No, not yet.  Give me a bit on this one.

Noticed lately I’ve been nervous, angry, in a mood, self-doubting.  That’s the problem, and the solve is…. To not.

That simple?

Yes.  Just flipping that switch.  Like me reacting to some people and their goddamn mood swings (like I’m one to talk).  Just, now, not.

They’ll be short and hardened one scene, then the next texting you something meant to be humorous and you’re like, “Where the fuck is this coming from?  The same person?”

Coffee is like a spirit to me.  A “spirit animal”… not sure how, but that sounds layered and nebulous enough to have to mean something….  Laughing at my Quota stress, and how I keep capitalizing ‘quota’.  No more caps, it doesn’t deserve that attention, not anymore.

Realizing I want to be a weatherman.  Seriously….  It’s still not raining, and what happens to them.  They can miss the mark and not make their quota for as many times as possible and… nothing.  No talking-to, no write-up, no re-training.  The best job imaginable… go on screen, point at stuff, use some multi-syllabic words and phrases and compounded-compound words and terms from a text book, and there you are.  The one people look to. 

I swear, PERFECT.