Mom and Dad leaving a short while ago, me opening some wine and here in office. Gratitude not just overwhelms me but controls my attention and movement. Mom telling me that Dad is an outspoken fan of the poz loft. Need tot urn this into a business, or part of AEd.
Glass poured but no sips yet. Still hot outside, and in here. Is the AC set? Let me check…. Yes, it was off. Turned back on, should be more comfortable soon. Not much in the mood to write or work. Missing one human. Can’t get distracted, even for a nano of nanos.
Note for meeting tomorrow on a post-it under right forearm, pushed to side. Relaxed, zen, music at loft tonight. The gratitude is life an instructional tumult that tells me one direction or another. I’m alone, in this office, waiting but not. Rather deciding to just make something occur. Bed soon, wake early, coffee here so no Noto trip.
More and more composed and centered, relayed in fresh reality in this office, this condo, in Windsor. Still think of what my wife would think, but it’s time to dismiss that, I know…
Connected, renewed, self-recognized.