Tired and not sure how long I’ll be in the office. Guessing I’ll be on the loft couch in less than 20. Prospecting today, lots of it, and after not that great a sleep last night for the writer.
Where are my glasses.. FUCK. I don’t have a pair down here?
Took the pair from the kitchen, back in chair and feeling more tired than when I typed the words “Tired and not sure…”. Eric Hilton, wine and the space heater. Grateful tp be here tonight, no where else.
Rest of that Bellacana Pinot, demanding I relax, clock out, write in head and put to page tomorrow early to a double-espresso, coffee, quiet… just me here. Could write a book over books and books about 228 – this condo, the second floor which I’ve dubbed the loft.