3:55. Day finally starting to calm.

No run, as I had to rush out to a site visit with one of the SE’s.  No lunch today, technically.  Cleaning desk a bit more, so that only leads—business cards, names, contact info, paths to transaction—are visible and within physical reach.  What do I do tonight in class….  Go in blank, no plan, only keep them for an hour.

Nearly settled on leaving early, now.  30 minutes, say.  And go where, thinking either Whole Foods or S&H.  Or, right to campus.  No… somewhere to sit, get through some grading, get these papers out of my stage and scene.

Write up EOD…..  Done.  And, followed up with a prospect in Berkeley.  She’ll sign she says just needs a little time with much of her staff being out, and some family emergencies, and other others. 

Could absolutely use a glass of wine.  Yes, a Pinot, or some light blend, something.  Beer in no way sounds appealing, not now anyway.  Getting out of office, off to collect and not so much prep for class but shift senses and sights, my identity and what I want to say.  Maybe I don’t want to say anything, maybe I want to start animation, vocal and loud discussion in stories and characters, possibilities and decision.

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Back from Novato meeting.  New accrued knowledge on fiber install and voice offerings for prospective clients.  Hour and forty minutes left in fast.  When back from run, I’ll eat something.  Thinking one of the sub-par sandwiches from one of the refrigerators, this building’s or the other.  Or maybe I shouldn’t run today.  Take the day off.  Think Bill, the COO, also a radicalized runner, does on Wednesdays.  If I do, I could do back-to-back 7’s Thursday and Friday, which would put me at 27 for the week.  I think.  OR…. Do 5k today, then 7 and 7, then I’d be at 30 for the week.  Like that better.  I don’t know.  I’m going to go out, but not even close to an hour’s worth.

Decided I’m to stay late tomorrow, and come in for 2 or 3, maybe 4 hours on Saturday, after my visit to Aperture Cellars.  The workload isn’t excessive, I merely need to schedule every hour, all days.  Use Sonic Calendar for everything.

Thinking some water is needed.  No more caffeine.  Cut back on caffeine.  MY GOD, I have too much of it in my system.  Natural energy and beat, not something coaxed by the product of beans, some somehow-justified chemical. 

Seeing, the only thing I should be doing at this desk, is generating revenue and prospecting new business.  Expect my entries from desk to be shorter, curt even, seemingly less interested though the fervor and fire still is very much intact and kept.

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8:32

11/13/19 – Day Three for the second pass at 100.  In a mood this morning.  Coffee helping.  Was going to go to sbux for the usual morning latte, but traffic on Stony Point was more monstrous than I’ve ever seen, so I immediately rules NO, turned around in the street off to right, not sure its name, and headed to HQ.  Meeting in BMK at 10:30, then back to office.  Have two proposals to work on, really 3, then have speakers group at 12:30.  Somehow have to find time to grade.  Should I not run today?  NO, you need to run.  Just don’t do one of the longer routes.  Maybe 2 out and 2 back.  That would bring me to 17 miles for the week, I believe.  Growling inwardly as I didn’t wake early, no shock.

Knowing now, from work, I need go further into my truths, into my narration, I’m now understanding, looking at the clock stare back at me with numbers 8:36 AM.  Much to do in day, but I’m turning off the boat’s motor, and letting natural gusts encourage my travel, production this morning.  Really, I don’t have to move intently till 9.  Have 22 minutes.  5 hours left in fast.  16 hours, this one.  Stopped eating early last night as I was tired, done wit the day, decided to be lazy and watch one of those Paranormal shows, a mistake, rather than take notes.  Just little notes, that’s productivity.  Why didn’t I do that?

Questioning self and wondering what’s at the end of this 100-day dash.  I know, and I see it, I merely need practice and tie-in more discipline.

Grading some small works from 1B class.  Letting go of the stress and mood of the morning.  Set appointment to revisit a site in Petaluma.  Going to come into office on Saturday, finish some contracts and get better arranged and organized at desk.  Now, 4am is not something I wish to do but have to.  There is no other practice for a writer and business blogger like me, to know my Now and free self of moods and nay-saying twits around me that only complain and devote energy to citing what’s missing and wrong with everyone else rather than assemble more sight and beat in their own narrated place.

This project, this new bunching of 100 days where I’m to study each step in my character carousal to his There, to what he sees and needs and dreams, me here thinking that I’m thinking too much, and that if I were to wake at 4am how so much would be solved.  Not feeling too much of yesterday’s 6.3 miles, or the day before’s 7, so I might try for 5+ again.  Not sure, but need time to collect.  Not stress, be in my story and lead my one-man militia to liberation.  Sonic….. if I didn’t have Sonic, if I were stuck in a fucking tasting room still, I don’t know what I’d be writing.  Never mind that.  I’m here, seeing IT.  The IT to it all, all this… what I’m writing, what I’ll be speaking tonight in class.

Cup 1, done.  Time for another.

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Taking a pause in day, in production, to produce this sentence

and those following.  Bringing some Sonic projects home, get ahead of tomorrow, for which I have another initial meeting, then the speakers group in middle of day

May leave office and visit a business, winery I’m quite fond of more or less just down the Road.

6.3 miles later, I’m feeling tired, and getting nervous all the people around me cause and wheeze.  Need to keep running, drinking WATER, and sanitizing and washing hands at every corner I anticipate.  The exhaustion is considerable but not yet compromising.

Getting out of the office and visiting that business I thought of.  What am I expecting, nothing.  That’s one flaw of sales people.  Aside from speaking too much like sales people, they over-rely and over-invest in their expectations.  Looking forward to meeting more people at this business, as I’m already connected there, and seeing where it goes.  (3:42)

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100 Days Second Pass

11/12/19

Day 2 of 100 Days’ Second Pass.  Latte to start day.  Going down to Bel Marin today, later.  Need to reserve car.  Will do in a minute.  More intensity in connectedness, like yesterday and all days before.  Tend to list I wrote up toward end of yesterday’s meeting, with this new project.  On the Road, before Day 100.  Lecturing and speaking wherever I can….  No more promissory writing like this.  Where I am and what I’m doing—Sonc office arranging leads on desk, looking for new names to put in Collective Conversation.  Not saying “funnel”.  Not ‘cause I don’t like the word, I merely see my phrasing as more applicable and appropriate.

This new project, as well fixating on productivity itself.  How I do what I do when I do.  No class today, so that’s lost production.  Or is it.  Only if I allow.  8:17 now, and a whole day to advance in the project.  Not asking for permission, not waiting for any allowance or grant.  Just going.  What we should all do.  I slow my typing speed, where I am at this desk, seeing the latte out of eye’s corner and thinking I’ll be sad when I finish it.  Why.  Some hesitation and pause, lull with it for me, like it’s a lover or lifeline or both right now. 

The latte helps me not think a thing, just to write my hour and current steps and breaths in this office.  Inputting names into the ColleCon, what I’m now calling the Collective Conversation not to be cute or witty or fashionable in combining names as they do with celebrities when they date, but to make it more my own.  And I’m finding that AE life, or any position here at Sonic really, is about wholly owning your own onus.

Distracted by one of my favorite partners here, coming over to see if I saw the batteries he left on my desk for my mouse, the mouse he gifted me.  I thanked him and he as always responds that he has his moments, I respond that he has many and I appreciate them all.  This office and the atmosphere, this is all I ought talk about with prospects, so why do I still overthink prospecting, talking to business owners and decision makers.  No logical warrant, all in my head.

Mouse working now, the one K gave me, and I’m back at the desk typing.  First thing after this, put names in ColleCon.  May even call it CC, to have it be easier and more proprietary.  A business to look up, there’s another, there’s almost too much and not in a negative note and know.  There’s more story ahead of me than I estimated.  AE life is all about Onus, seeing what you see then acquiring through production and narration, self-study.

8:43, relaxing, enjoying what’s left of the latte.  More than I thought.  Why did I see the cup so depleted?  Obvious insight into psychology, psychology I should shift of course.  Was over in other building to get a battery and now I notice I should have got a key, for car I’m going to use today for drive to BMK.  Should probably start prepping for that meeting, another obvious trot.  So…. Shifting motion and focus, frame and form.

Seeing that all of us are AEs.  All, each one of us, our own executive, and each aim, sight, possibility is an already-tenable account.  Thinking is the barrier, just as much as it might be necessary for projects and for colossal movement toward your There.  Create, don’t excessively deliberate.  Don’t stall yourself in circular consideration and evaluation.  As with prospects, enjoy the moment, the creation and conversation.

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Day ONE, of 2nd 100 Project

12pm.

Running me, all put on.  Have some good, what I would call “good” conversations started for day so far.  Holding off on coffee, of course, and wondering where I’m going on run.  Definitely not Rodata.  Done with that trail, for any future I can foresee.  List grows for productivity project.

Oh shit… just realized this is day 1 of the new 100 projects.  Noted that on today’s little piece, with aims for appointments and contact this person, and that person.  Will type up official list of aims for project when back from run.  The aim of the first one, or the dominant objective of being on autopilot has absolutely been achieved and more than streamed.  I’m here, with three contracts coming in last week, and this week picking up on conversations and already qualifying addresses for prospects.

Aim for run, between 5 and 6.3 miles, and definitely not over an hour.  For week, and all weeks 25-30 miles.  One more bathroom break, then out the door.  Saw that outside temp is upper 60s.  Not sure that’s right.  Doesn’t matter.  I need to get out.  Need a run.  Make calls when back.

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11/11/19

Reports are in.  Today’s focus again is conversation.  Writing letters.  Following up on conversations from last week. Just made note to self to email guy I met down on peninsula, Friday, who went to my high school.  Not at the same time obviously but anything helps, all such intersections and conversations are boons and valuable hooks.

Cards all over the desk surface, where do I start.  Driving the Prius here, a vessel I angrily and wholly loathe, I thought about money and income streams, needing more to replace that crusty shitboat.  Moving money, keeping track of everything I do, today.  Everything is to produce revenue.  I don’t connect with people just to be connected to them.  I mean, the relationship is genuine and heartfelt but it should be no surprise to anyone that you’re a business person. The goal is growth.  Ascension is the aim.

Eating the cereal I put in a baggie.  Actually two, there were two different types of cereal.  One, mini-wheats, frosted of course, and the other the crunchy Raisin Bran that’s a bit sweeter, or crunchy, interesting, something, I don’t know.

In the office.  I guess some have the day off today, schools and other businesses but I don’t.  And I’m rejoicing, celebrating that I’m working.  Why… I’m not just making it my own but I’m not allowing this to be work.  This is a studio, a gallery, an opportunity of opportunities.  Not the wine industry.  Yesterday at the winery really reminded me of why I want to get out of the TR.  People… my love and point of detest.  My group, intoxicated and loud, antagonistic and they didn’t tip.  They bought like 5 bottles I think, but still.  It’s not here.  There’s not the creative invitation… here I feel I can bring anything to life.  Literally.  Like a sexy Frankenstein, or artful one.  Hate how people use the word sexy to mean something interesting, or uniquely engaging.  Why not just say that.  Why didn’t I, just then.

Keeping a productivity journal, or list for the day.  Exactly what I do, or what I can remember. Running at noon or 1pm as I emailed in my flight plan for day, to director.  So now…  Where do I keep that list?  Have one more piece of paper flying around my surface here?  Guess I have to.

9:56.  4 things done.  Should have ten.  Oh.. can add one blip to list I forgot about.

About to take a break, go to the back and get some coffee…. Where is my me-journal, the one I keep on person as much as I can to write notes to self, little in-the-moment jots, and what-not.

Found it.  In backpack.  Yes I’m using the backpack again.  Hated just lugging the laptop back and forth from shitboat to office, along with coffee cup, and whatever else.  Feel scattered and anxious this morning and I’m not at all a fan, like I’m juggling chainsaws and bowling balls, cracked-out catnip-filled cats and fishhooks.  Breathe, I tell myself, and you should tell yourself.  Breathe, meditation, relax.

Running in less that two hours, phone conversation in less than one hour with more senior AE.

It is possible to have too many projects, too many to-do’s.  All I need is one blog, one book. What I’m saying to myself now wanting more coffee and having to do some money-moving if I’m to get my car.  And… what do I want?  I don’t want some typical fucking dad cart, like a small Toyota or some shitty truck.  I want something that I want, and of course I think of my dad and all the awesome cars and trucks he’s had, HAS.  Him and Mom.  So…. What do I want.  This is a good distraction, and path for a solid new aim… my new ride.  What.. what?  A Mustang?  I don’t see myself as a truck guy, though…. The truck my Dad has is pretty boss.  So…..

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11/9/19

Wine tasting today actually made me feel like one just in love with wine, not any of its perception, pretension (which there is none if you’re really in a tasting for the wine and not how you might look to others).  I was tasting with people I never had, hearing their reactions and tells of wine stories and food pairings, people and having people over, wine and food and a room.  Talking.  Nothing more than that.  Three spots, Lioco, Stonestreet, the Hawley.  Hope I spelled them all correctly.  Sipping some of the Hawley Pinot here at the island counter after doing budget, going over the day—or not going over the day, but replaying, with a certain color and texture, richness in recollection.  Just walking around the square, Healdsburg, like someone from Texas or Iowa.  Tasting wine.  Curious.  Innocent maybe, but pleasantly out there in the streets to taste wine.

                Looking at the glass, possibly my last before bed, atop the keys.  I need only write wine, the glass decrees.  Pleasurable incarceration in wine and her storm and palm, presence and poetic steps.  Barely written a thing today.  Wine knows my writing inconsistencies and today in each tasting room reminded me of how effortless and painless it is to correct.  Hawley Pinot, not a simple being, not one predictable, but a voice framed in dimensional shoves….  Write the fucking book, she tells, remands, echoes.

                Obeying as best I can, but now starting to feel a pull toward sheets, the goddamn pillows.  A little of the Pinot left, seeing self pouring and touring around Lancaster’s property in morning, afternoon.  Tomorrow, frankly, I’m going to become atomic with everything I do, say, imply, how I move and recite.  Everything.  Tired of the same tasting room and winery shapes and scenes.  New reality yielding in this current bright current and wave of seismic ambition.  All from her, wine.  Her songs.  IT.

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Tasting with a

guy and his wife, today. Healdsburg. He from my leads groups, initially for lunch then decided to hit 3 rooms. Knowing again why I’m trying to get out of the industry of wine and deliver self to professional consumerism. Could write words, several, and I will, about all 3 rooms… Bringing the Hawley Pinot to Mom and Dad’s for dinner. Not sure what they’re cooking and it doesn’t matter. Want to share that wine with them.

Still want my wine office on the square. I don’t care what the rent would be. It’s only money, an expression I used to shun and get quite annoyed by, but it’s true. It only takes money.

At Lancaster tomorrow, and there’s a high likelihood I could be sent home early, from damage and effects and low traffic from the recent fires. May cut my story with them…. start the wine affiliate marketing and sales operation. Start with the the wineries of today. Two of them, for sure.

Saw friend Gary at Stonestreet. We used to be in the TR trenches together at Kunde, years ago. Seeing him always reminds me of wine and it’s place and post, story and profile, importance in my story. He and I both from literary sittings. Our talks on literature, wine… something I need returned. Brought back to my room and current stage.

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