09:19
Laundry on…. Several errands to run.
Running, not today. Taking the day to situate the new office in the master bedroom. Moving books from downstairs. It’ll still be an office down there, just not as writing-centric, I don’t think.
Stack of books on Nook table destined for Archive. Tobias Wolff, Kerouac, Sedaris of course, Malala, Bukowski, collection of Dickinson’s poetry. Writing, what I have to do EVERY day, in order to be Better Every Day.
Kids hilarious this morning, on-time and eager to get out the door, keeping their dad on-task. Walking to the car, Jack reminding me I parked in the street yesterday, Henry racing Jack to the RAV while Em walked with me. Perfect morning, cool and clear, felt like Windsor and how I thought of the town before moving here.
Getting distracted while upstairs, had to face myself down here. Nurse at work and leaving early this morning. I credit everything with her alarm and need to wake at such a time. She out the garage by 6:20-something I think and I was to the kitchen to make lunches.
This table, feeling like home. Like the book is forming, the NEW STORY’s engine has started. Things are going to happen, just as I need and want them to, as I see them materializing.
I have until about 14:30…. Picking up Henry— OH, that reminds me…. Had to send a text. Seeing if he, Henry, has his appointment later. Just talking out loud, or noting to self…. What else. Busy day.
09:29… need to call Mark. Texted to see if he’s free. Driving out to VV tomorrow…. My head and thoughts spinning and intertwining, circling and flashing. Urging me to make something happen. Fucking wait for NOTHING.
Off phone. Mark getting laid off this past Tuesday. Business in a sink stretch before he came onboard. Not much he could do, but he tried, and fought, and fought hard. But, no avail.
Mark tells me he’s already with some independent work in queue. What I need to do. Or, do more of.
Looking at Kerouac’s entries. Different type of Composition, years of me teaching from these pages and others. I have to laugh, with this time off since late February.
How I’ve changed, and haven’t.
Quiet condo, loft floor, table in kitchen, hearing the washing machine upstairs. Committing myself to home today. Easy day, no stress. Send the Nurse messages, whenever a thought hits me.
Loosening up, thinking less. Dad and the Nurse talking last night, making me laugh while I helped Mom with dishes. Kids playing, all of us together, and I remember being overcome with a strong and controlling sense of peace. And assurance. Like the Story itself was telling me, “Relax, stop thinking so much about everything. You’re where you need to be, and it will only get better.”
Never felt anything like that before. Did I hear a voice, no. But, it was more than a voice. Better, and more believable.