Wind, almost extreme wind, in VV. All paperwork done, sent, appointment tomorrow morning. Sipping latte, waiting for the Nurse to come home. Budgeted an hour to get everything done, and I have over 35 minutes left on countdown.
Went to bed late, playing Madden with Gabe, something I haven’t done in over a decade I’d guess. Relaxed, grateful, nothing this morning rushed. No stress or bother, much as I’m sure that bothers some. Tough shit.
Look out the window and the wind may have died down a little but nothing where you’d noticed, in fact I’m probably wrong.
Can’t believe I woke up as early as I did…. Sales journal thoughts pulling me from sleep, notes and posts, the podcast I listened to yesterday for part of the drive.
25 minutes left on timer… need to go to store and get what I need for tonight’s dinner. Thinking about getting that out of the way now, but don’t want to get in the car again.
Fig the cat tries to hop on my lap, I scare him away. Not scare him, but let him know that his encroach isn’t invited, or wanted right now.
Sparkling water. Needed. A little dehydrated after last night, Gabe and I having a couple cocktails while pseudo-gambling on the game. I wound up winning, but it was weirdly close. Didn’t think I was. I mean, when was the last fucking time I played Madden??
Some matters, or issues, just not in my basket of priorities right now. I’m simply denying the right to be heard, seen, felt, or anything akin.
16 minutes left on timer. Journal notes, sales, applying for jobs—THAT’S WHAT I WAS GOING TO NOTE…
My employment history. Interesting, a bit choppy, but from my major… the teaching thing not working out as I’d seen, then having to go into the wine industry for however many fucking years at however many fucking wineries…. Teaching alongside then going into telecom and tech, still teaching till Dec ’21…. Jesus, fucking exhausting.
No more jobs. What I’m declaring. I remember a wine club member at Dutcher Crossing telling me about his son, then in his early or mid-20’s making that promise to himself – NO MORE JOBS.
What I’m doing now. I mean, FUCK. How many more do I have to have. I don’t, I don’t have to have any. I’m done with it.. all the bullshit… the interviewing, the moronic and silly and simple fucking questions they ask for sakes of “screening”. Give me a fucking break…
Content. Create, I order of self. Keep writing, keep taking pictures of EVERYTHING. There is story and voice in everything around you… the Nurse’s desk, this little office corner, the printer and candle, the latte which will not be enough caffeine for this tired and slightly hungover writer this morning.
The wind is loud and commanding, symbolic of, well, I guess me right now. How confident and strong I feel. Has to be how I read it. Like some Kerouac pages, fast and sped and purposeful.
Seven minutes left on timer…. More water, more music in head. Facing all stories opposing me. I can only win.