A thousand words to start day.  Sipping latte listening to the fans go.  Wife and babies at the race, and me about to get ready.  Having a $300 project as a quick focus and draw-up of character.  No expenses foreseen, that require cash anyway.  Want the CC paid off by year’s end. Nearly there.

Blogging… everything.  Need to get out and blog more about what people are doing, and me a working daddy, one with you could say 3 ACTUAL jobs.  And I say ACTUAL that way as each is obligated, lasting a certain significant stretch of time, and pays decently.  How to get this to stream currency, though… Don’t worry about.  Like I said the other night at dinner with Thomas, “When you focus on metrics you endanger the metrics you’re after.”

Shit!  Just remembered I still have to write that article for that lady, the one who specializes in Wellness and Happiness…  I’ll start with the Tolstoy quote.  Can’t remember the exact word placement, but essentially “If you want to be happy, be.” Actually I think that’s precisely what it is.  Anyway, somehow have to find time to do that.

Monday, tomorrow… going to absolutely BLITZ it.  Be in San Rafael by 10, canvassing.  Walk around for a couple hours, then back to office for a run.  Also this week, no Starbucks.  And, no eating out.  I cringe thinking of all the money I’d save if I just stopped.  Not counting last night, taking family to Union Hotel, the babies so happy with their little breadsticks and pizza, Jackie asking for a bit of my pasta, my sipping some of my sister’s Chardonnay.

Time… just passing me, but I’m catching what I can when I can.  8:53… shit.  How did that happen.  When do I have to leave…. OH SHIT, I have to be there by TEN, not 11.  Where is my sight, awareness.  Certainly not in a fucking tasting room.  But here I go…. To write the day, and start on tomorrow all day today, on the tasting room’s fucking dime.

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Behind in my NaNo

project. Have to write tonight…. Begging the story, my story, to make me write tonight.

Soon leaving for Corte Madera. Opportunity for new business and speaking Sonic, and have people be aware of me and my words.

Latte at home, fans still going drying out the ceiling from upstairs leak. Surprised how that happened, a bother, but teaching me more into homes and real estate, how homes are built and properties and their value… someone’s home, the beaming gravity of such.

I’m not too old for new interests and pursuits, no?

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Approaching 3 o’clock.  Just under 20 minutes away.  Tired, not motivated, not getting ahold of anyone.  How can I switch it up, for the day and principally.  Hmmmm…..  Account Executive, Account EX-EC-U-TIVE.  Thought about getting out of the office, getting into the street, but no.  No one wants to be approached on Friday.  They’re too much looking forward to their weekend.  Can’t blame them.

Funny thing about networking…. Forgot what I was going o write, how I was going to approach that.  Work, the ‘working’ part of the word.  Where the work is done.  But if it’s too obvious, then the potential for something lucrative or promising to materialize diminishes.  Writing about work, solely now, I see that when you work too hard you damage your work, the use and application of it.

Work should be impassioned, dynamic and ever encouraging of creative.  For me, be it wine, or teaching, or here at Sonic… there needs to be life, radiance and never repetition.

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10/11/19

Thinking of ways to build this, this AE story.  Taking notes, making appointments, but still not producing as fast as I’d like.  I know, I know… patience.  Slow down.  I know that’s what you’re thinking.  And you should be.  Tenacity and temperament is a tough tightrope walk to work.  But I do.  I have to.  Keep writing, keep brainstorming till you get something.  Committing to staying in office, all day.  Brainstorm.  Keep a storming brain.  That’s how you find gems.

Wake earlier.  6-something doesn’t fucking cut it.  Even 5am is just barely acceptable if you want to get ahead in tasks, productivity, and life, success.  At least that’s what I’m finding.

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Have to write a short bio, for tomorrow’s introduction… introducing me before I give my Sonic lecture.

Then I just get an email from the chapter president that the meeting’s cancelled.  Good… well, not GOOD, but I’m not saddened by it.  More of a morning, for me.  What to do…..  go somewhere and write.  Maybe Peet’s.

Alone in bullpen.  Just finished this long, somewhat silly but then unexpectedly useful online class for leads group.  Could use a walk.

My novel could use some of its daily attention.

Run tomorrow, and the next day.

Only five miles tomorrow, then EIGHT on Friday.  No excuses.

Oh shit.. forgot I need to write that bio.  Do it later.  No, NOW….

Mike Madigan

Born in Santa Cruz, raised in San Carlos.

B.A. in English with a Creative Writing emphasis, M.A. in English with Literary Theory and Philosophy emphasis.

Mike lives in Santa Rosa with his wife and two kids, Jack (7) and Emma (3).

There is no spare time, Mike maintains.  There is only time to create, learn, connect, and love.

Mike has been teaching at the college level for 13 years, and in the wine industry for the same amount of time.  He currently works at Sonic, consults and blogs/writes in the wine world/industry, lectures two courses at SRJC and runs as much as he can.

A quote he lives by, “If you have no critics you’ll likely have no success.” (Malcom X)

His reason for being at Sonic, to build business from creative education, genuine connectedness, and love for community and customer care.

How’s that?  Will pay attention to novel tonight, as much as I can.  4:51, should leave soon.  Want a glass of wine.  Just have the Rose under my desk.  Take it home…. Enjoy it.  Enjoy lots of it.  Not happy about these power outages, but I’ve always said “Go with the story, work with existing momentum, not against it.”

Office now so quiet. Everyone in the barnyard, my little neighborhood, gone.  Maybe I should stay a bit, get the day’s contribution to novel to 500 words.  Why not.

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10/9/19

Two years ago, the fires.  And now… me heading to Berkeley by myself.  Out of the wine industry, done with 4-shot latte, and not touching NaNo project till this evening, or later in day.  Maybe this morning, not sure.

Have to leave at 9-9:15.  In meantime, write.  Plan day.  Write what I want into existence.

Chardonnay last night, with something wife made.  Can’t think, with people talking around me but like I tell my students just write, ignore it. Last night’s discussion on Plath has me wanting to write my own opinion paper, about her writing after asking students “Why Write?” Prompt for last night’s meeting.

Just noted to self… “Write what you see and what you know, what you love and where you’ll go.” This morning I’m intent—no, more than that.  What the hell am I? Something I’ve never been before, I feel.  The technical aspect of what I do for Sonic does a bit unnerve and intimidate me, but I ignore it.  I can act.  Or not act, but assimilate, have a different fate.

So……..  Driving soon.  Travel light.  Only a work folder, or pouch, or whatever the hell this thing’s called.

Writing about work has me with exposed fangs, wanting more work, more projects, more invitations for creative.  Woke at fucking 6:20-something this morning when I so profusely wanted to be up at 4.  But, the run, and I think the Chardonnay blocked what was sought.

Some people bringing their kids to work, with nearly every school in Sonoma County closed for the day.  All except for wife’s.  Can’t figure that out. Jack to work with her.  Wonder what he’ll do there.  This morning Jack showing me how many notes, letters really, he’s writing.  If he writes a certain number of letters, he earns stickers, and eventually his name will be mentioned on the loudspeaker at his school. His aim arrangement and orientation teaches me about me, what I need do with my nano novel  I remember thinking how tired I was last night instead of just diving into my novel.  When home, tonight, just open the laptop, do touch-and-go’s on novel.

Gears in switch.  Prep for Berkeley drive, gather materials, though not much.  Posted something, texted wife, moving miles in less than a minute.

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4:40.

Possible power outages.  Everyone talking about it. If it happens, it happens.  Just my mind about it.  Getting a beer after this, then class.

Going to send my EOD, and possibly leave early.  Just thinking about it, at this point.  Wonder how life will be affected if the power is out for several days as some say might happen.  Not worrying about it.

Checking schedule, when I can write…. Daily word quote still enough under 2000 words that I’m in an eased writer spree and breeze.

Alone in bullpen.  Trainers gone, my AAE partner gone.  And nothing really to write.

How ‘bout a walk.  Use restroom.  Walk slow.

Now back.  Nothing to write and feeling anxious.  But what would I tell my students.  Of course, relax and don’t force it.  IT, whatever IT is, will find you.

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Day SIXTY-SEVEN

Feeling a bit overwhelmed, and scattered and stressed with all these projects, with all these directions.  No matter, no weights slows this writer.  Craving my own office like I never have.  With plenty energy today, not having a drop of wine last night and going to bed stupendously early.  Think… think…. What to put out next, in terms of story….  The morning, the coffee, the pen, the paper.  That’s it, like I always stress to students.. Where are you and what are you doing?

Mapping out day, even though it’s most mapped.  Going for a run at 11:30, then back in office and head to Petaluma.  Set appointments.  I want at least two, for the day.  Log everything…. Places hit, self-evaluation, notes on what to say even though I keep it not so much simple but succinct and unassuming.

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5800 words in novel.  My daily goal is under 2000 words, so I’m more than safe and comfortable with the pace expected, demanded.  Home from lunch and babies have a snack.  Emma not wanting anything at lunch but an ice water and some bites of the chips and salsa while Jackie ordered and devoured a quesadilla with rice and beans.  Then we played in the park, and they were out before we reached the River Road exit.  Now Emma has some yogurt, Jack finished his and rests on couch.

More wine writing for me.  Need something to study and survey tonight, but what.  Thinking target a bargain bottle from Bottle Barn, see what type of force I can acquire for less than $20.  One of those missions, you know?  Or, have the Kunde Rose that’s in the fridge.  I’ve never felt that Rose though could be anything so worth an avalanche of pages.  Maybe this one will be.  Tasted it the other weekend, last I believe, when visiting Dwight in the tasting room.  Actually he was outside on the patio by the water helping some tech group from the city, majority of which were hungover form a wedding the prior nuit.

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