over the counter and make it myself. Not that I could…. Well, yeah, I could make something for myself… espresso, milk, whip and cinnamon. How hard is that.
No idea how to work that machine, so never mind.
Listening to a playlist of 80s and 90s tracks on the way over, making me feel older than I am, or just how old I am, my exact age and the one approaching in a couple months. Nothing I can do but just get fucking OLD.
Guy sits in the sofa seat next to me, on the other side of this small circular table. WHY. There are several other seats… why so close to me.
Trying to practice not giving a fuck, on one page and then another. Sounds sexy, but tougher than it sounds. Just don’t care… flip the switch, I keep saying to myself.
Duh, if I could…
Quota, how I’ll afford whatever home I find…. The kids as they get older… car maintenance as the Rav gets older…. I see what I’m doing, just stressing myself. Causing ALL of it.
ALL of it.
11:41
After a criss with email, finally put tables and chairs on parklet. Forgot my credit card or debit at GoDaddy was an old one. At first, totally panic. But now… yeah, back to life. Relaxing, siping the latte slower than slow ‘cause I’m fired up as it is. Thievery Corporation, usual tracks on my Sundays…. ZEN.
Chris told me I have a group at 1:45 I believe. Younger he said. Great…. See? I’m a cranky old guy now.
11:46
Gonna walk around, go outside, watch passing cars and people and ridiculous loud obnoxious motorcycles. My god, what a kook.
12:21
Cold, closed door. Rain could be anytime now. Finally… these weather idiots better be right this prediction, had it with their shit. I’m becoming a bigot toward weather people, and the Weather Channel.. And the weather itself. I used to love it, but now…. I blame the weather people. All the way.
Reservation cancelled. Could not be more overjoyed…. Less people, PLEASE. Feel bad for my friend Chris, as this is his livelihood, career. But, he should have known better than to hire a mood writer like me.
Making fun of my moods, moodiness, and anxiety toward quota… what can I do. NOTHING. Of course management will outline what I already know, which is what I’ve been doing so that’s comical in itself. What hasn’t been working, yeah keep doing it.
Latte done, one sip of wine and bleh… not in the mood to taste any of this. Not one drop.
Looking for more pictures, for the web design idea…. Short text, memories, realities, observations. Most of them wine, but not all. Old pics of the kids, maybe a selfie or two.
Kids, wine, blending trials… life goes by quicker than we want. So capture EVERYTHING. Even the apparently boring is bold in opportunity and voice.
Trying to rah-rah self into new mood, not be annoyed with some people and their obvious tactics.