Things attempt to disrupt my day, take me away from my Road.
I simply say no. Don’t allow. Comical, how they think I can be so effortlessly moved.
Reminds me of people in the wine world, told they can’t do it.
It doesn’t pay enough, it’s a dead-end. But then…
Success, however it could be defined.
Working at Brass Tap, a place the Nurse and I frequent, used to more often.
Such a peace and Composition about me now. Grateful.
They didn’t have Pliny but the bartender recommended another IPA that’s similar, but, well.. not. Ha ha… Hazy, not West Coast. Don’t usually like Hazies, but this one isn’t bad. He let me taste it, waited for my reaction. “Oh dude, fucking sold…”I told him.
Re-reading what I wrote earlier, and some past wine notes in a document I nearly forgot about. Wow… tasting notes from Kunde, Lancaster before that (before FFW ownership), and Mayo, St. Francis… holy shit. Like another human.
“Swirling apricot and jumping peace, in vanilla knots and flights, gentle feminine texture…” This one about the ’07 Viognier. My friends used to make fun of me, for how much I’d taste it and talk about it, and at the end of the day it’d be my one glass before leaving.
Mark responds to my message, again telling me to enjoy the hell out of my remaining time off. He’s right, and how timely these words me stressing and feeling anxious driving here. There is nothing I can do now other that reach out to IT people, and other vendor types. And study products, technology, of course.
Had to refresh on SD-WAN, oh well. I’m doing most I can. Adding to thesis, or manifesto, constitution, whatever you’d call it. Everything in time, no rushing I say to myself like I’m one of the students in a past SRJC classroom.
Writing in my head, not trying some points. What I want, where I’m going…. The writing and interpretation above EVERYTHING, about everything. How I translate this sitting, in this pub or brew house where the Nurse and I stop from time to time.
Not going to lie, feeling a bit fearless. Like the poet I was at SSU, and before when I’d release those tapes, openly citing certain people for their steps and words and sewer-y ways. And here I am, finding myself in the same character.