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.