1-18-25
06:48 Nurse left three or so minutes ago. Me waking before 06:00 to get Starbucks as I most times do on mornings like these. Testing myself in a certain fashion this morning, to write freer and even more unafraid than I do. See more in the pictures, the captures and images. This one…
Kids still asleep of course and thought about going back to sleep for a bit while driving across town but no, need to write in the more painful hours. And, with this caffeine, the 4 espresso shots in the latte there’s no way I would turn off if I laid down in our bed.
Transition at work, with tech. Me, and what I do…. No fear in it, and lots, lots of research. Easy approach, not overthought. And honestly it’s a sensible transition. But that’s not where my head is right now, or since when my eyes struggled to open and the alarm going off telling me it’s 06:00.
FUCK, I said to myself.. The Nurse’s alarm going off at the same time mine, and she groaning or sighing or both. I laughed a little and didn’t tell her, not at her but that we both had the same reaction and realization, ‘Shit, time to get up.’
She texts me and says there’s a stop on the freeway, someone lost debris, like wood or something from the back of their vehicle maybe and 101 is slowed. Then it starts again. I feel guilty that I may have made her late but then check the ETA from the condo and I think she’ll be fine.
She responds they’re moving now, and should be fine. People and how careless they can be, always stunning.
Just before 07:00 and now feeling a little sleepy but fighting it. This is what I need to do more of, resist compulsion and even my own chemical or physiological workings. I’m staying in this fucking chair and enjoying the quiet, time to write.
The latte, my ally. Me up and feeling like I’m not me. Like I didn’t have the stressful fucking week I had. Interesting. Clear thinking and appreciation. Tandem with the rapidly cooling cup, and I didn’t know I had that much of it already. Enjoy, don’t overthink.
What am I writing about, now and most days as a diarist essayist scribbler madman poet, just writing a poem in under a minute in a different doc. Maybe I’ll post it maybe I won’t. Writing till I find something, maybe that’s the year’s motif and meaning, ideological arc and architecture.
It started, today and its rewarding craze, with the Nurse… that beautiful Nurse and teaches me more than any teacher I’ve had, or known or been associated with. I dive into a character deconstruction and explanation, like an extended definition… understanding of my fiancee. She has me in this chair, she is the one coaching me in the writing effort, this journal and recording a much as I can before my leave.
Tempted to text her, but I want her to have some space. Some quiet to SELF as I do now. Looking at my phone then sipping again, 07:08. Refusing to stop till I hit at least 1001 words for the day before this loft floor is invaded by my little Madigans.
No sound other than the fridge, the peace is prominent. The room instructs, orders me to other orders. Follow my own, see what I want to see in the pictures…. There is nearly too much life in this life, and all I can do is try to catch it with scribbles and types.