Over a 14.5 hour day, driving from here to 425 Cal to get tent then to the Sn Jose Golf Country Club for event. We were at the 2nd hole, Monique and I.. great day, a, little windy, day calm and smooth and productive, but not without the cost of the. Morning golf cart incident and my direct report… I’ll save it for the book, but just note – folded tent in zippered sleeve or holder, pouch, thrown onto gas pedal, cart takes off, he tries to stop it cart runs into truck and he into back of cart. To the ER… poor bloke, I thought and am still thinking. Such a great guy, so positive, just landed from SEA, and this…
20:52 in loft, nook, made self dinner, a Mikey grilled cheese the way my mom makes them, or how I remember her making them. Relaxing to smooth jazz, some of the SB from the other night. No TV.. no shows.
TV shows, Netflix or Max or anywhere have humans on them and they have voices. I’ve enough still ringing in my memory and immediate synapses from the DC trip never mind today. No complaint notes in. This post, just how I feel. I need music. Soft, barely connecting.. like a loving background whisper, just for a writer.
Grateful for this company ….. Nearly forgot about that. SE Stan let me know over Teams while Monique and I were cleaning up, she taking the cart up to the parking lot, stuffing leftover sparkling, beer, White Claw and whatever the fuck else in the Rav.
“It’s happening now,” Stan said, and I could only feel the way I did at Sonic when my contracts starting to step into the story. The story builds, and I’m doing what I promised myself driving down to SF earlier than usual this morning.. no relaxing—well, you can relax but to writing, wine, music. No couch, no documentaries, as amazing as they are.. no shows, no idle.