Sleeping plenty last night but still a bit drained from yesterday. Just Emmie and I in the loft, she playing a game and me noting what there is to note – groceries later, of course cleaning as the three little humans stained, disheveled, and just ran through the condo. It’s going to happen, I have to understand, over and over. Find myself turning into a complete neat freak since getting this place. Not hovering over the kids by any means, but making sure they clean up after themselves in a collection of contexts.
Wash going, dishwasher as well. Dreamt about my fucking quota last night, and sales, telecom and fiber paths. It’s infecting my inclination and written delineations. Single dad, new home owner… Dad reminding me a couple times this past week and the ideas and characters sprout like rising zombies, or old ideas that were dead now stepping in newly sped steps.
What I want to do for the rest of my life…. The revolution that keeps pestering me pleasurably. Writing everything that people say… everything. Myself, then ‘some people’, my family, sister, buddy Rony at St. Francis the other day doing a tasting for a retired couple from FL, I think selling them on the club and shipping them a case or more.
Return to wine… not that I ever left— Just too much in this writer’s thinking this morning. How to write, what, when to finish the book by, which I think I’m again re-titling. Realizing that there may be a sunset tot the AE story, if things continue as they are. So I need put more into this.. THIS. This goddamn blog, all entries regardless of length, wine writings, the book… writing about being this new homeowner dad single.
8:32… still early. Woke kids at 6:40, or that’s when my alarm went off. Jack up earlier, knowing I needed to get him to his mom’s by 7:30 for some run I for some reason agreed to – of course taking away from my time because being diplomatic and agreeable is my flaw. Now some people try to capitalize more on my character composition, well aware of it but then eager to point out flaws. Not getting into it even though some of you know exactly what they fuck I’m talking about.
Told, “You should write about the divorce and everything that’s happened…” Why? I’m bored of it. Was months ago.
Write EVERYTHING. Same way Chris Rock uses his life for material… his divorce, I think his daughter getting expelled from some boarding school or something. Everything… this coffee, Emmie not wanting to go out to breakfast with her daddy instating wanting to rush back to condo so I can make her breakfast. My sweet Emma…. No human traps and tells my heart like her. Not one. This morning, while at first frustrating me has me smiling like one of those monkeys you see in comedic or blooper clips or memes. That’s the Now-me. Eased.