Essay and journal forms, changing them, thinking of me as not me, like I used to write and play around with.  A journal, logging everything like I did with wine… What we had in our hotel room, that blend I bought at the Ferry Building.  Can’t remember the name but I finished it last night and wrote not so much descriptors or any fruit or spice or earth insinuations but what I felt… carefree, free.

… just landed.  Huh… Why am I not more excited about it?  Answer obvious, but not giving any satisfaction by posting here.. saving for the book.  Noticing myself saying that a lot more lately.  So then the logical question is when the fuck is the book coming out?  No idea..

13:12 Nurse messages me with some simple and profound counsel.  Following her instruction immediately.  Real estate license thoughts again, and already exhausted and disinterested.  So there you go… NO.


15:12 Ramen was amazing, just as I knew it would be.  Sleepy though now, making coffee in a bit.  Driving to Oliver’s then home.  Setting up office tonight, keeping myself down there.  No fail.  Not a chance of it.