At Creekside.  Thinking about what I should do first, and that’s part of the problem.  Noticing I’m pigeoning myself into thoughts, and visions.  Wine, teaching, tech, what have.

Also a problem.

For my mental health and career, I’m accepting a position at ME.

That simple.

I’m hiring ME.  For me skills yes, and strengths, but more so for my attitude.

Off call.  New ideas.  Lady said I need to put more energy into marketing ME.  Huh, imagine that.  Self-care/love/talk/attention/improvement/narration.

I’m doing so, and starting in this booth.

People coming in for late lunches, me not working but working – for SELF.  Imagine that…. Seeing and realizing things in my character.  Forcing things into fruition, “going forward” as some people say.

Starting with work.  Mental Health… manifesting the Story I need and want, the one I deserve.

Lunch done, back to work.  Changing my attitude about a couple things, notably work.  Studying my own psychology – what makes me happy, worry, sad, angry, what motivates me… going outside this Mike Madigan ship, seeing what I see.  Acting more a reader than writer.

PSYCHOLOGY.  Being more of a fanatical fan of your SELF.  May have found something here.  And if not, another idea I’ll play with in this post, on this page.

The Nurse, sending me the most loving and sweet messages.  Anxiety now, but more a level of anticipation to be with her that I haven’t felt before.  In her house, when she comes home, dinner ready for her… to show LOVE.  What’s wrong with that?

Fucking NOTHING.

Thought about going back to school for a Master’s in Psychology.  What would I do with it?

I don’t know.. why do I have to “do” anything with it?

So many ideas and conversations in head, here in San Anselmo, in this—

Distracted again.  Thoughts of her, and a letter I want to write.

Realizing when there need be a shift, change, alteration of sorts.  Unavoidable….  Psychology, mine, what I’m doing and where I am.  That is the Affairs’ State.

Put in journal.  Loving this new office.  Can’t remember the last time I was in a written sitting like this.  Not scrolling on platforms, or any of that shit.

PSYCHOLOGY….  How the brain works.  What I type next, and now, and why.  Why am I here writing and now knocking doors?  Obvious answer, and that tells me more than just one thing – more than a singular statement.

Fascinated by the Now, the day.  Can only credit that beloved Nurse of mine.