Her passion.  Her Story, dedication, what she does for work.  Then I see me, reflecting on my immediacy… Fucking quota-obsessed and stressed.  People will read this and worry but there is NO need.

Just watched something with the Nurse.  These “influencers”, posting “content” that is utterly, I don’t know, just hogwash.  I’m here wondering how they became famous from their taped slop-cloth…

Only thoughts, and more urgency to stay true to me.  Sad the Nurse got called in, but maybe that’s the Story, a reminder that I need to write more.

No more than. 195 words.  Seriously, not a fucking drop.

Music on now, Coltrane. Thinking of my Nurse, my one-day……..

It’s going to happen.  The talk now, too consistent.  And we recognize our book.  Page by page, when we wake up and fall asleep, have our cat come in and watch a show with us… all of it.

Her and I talking about our podcast, and Story, or brand or whatever.  Listening to Ep 2 & 3 of our podcast, which I haven’t posted.  Shit…

Now, assured.