4:05.

Approaching EOD, and I’m doing a bit of re-branding.  All telecom.  Everything.  Writer in a tech/telecom office.  Starting with certain platforms, then moving into others.  Killing ancillary blogs, for good.  Two, total.  Running after work.  EOD is really a BOD.  Beginning Of Day.  Hearing people around the office laugh, entirely comfortable in their positions and my envy in me echoes.  Writing the word, TELECOM, on wall of my work area.

By Day HUNDRED, I seek to be in complete cruise control, autopilot.  I will be… today’s just been one of unintentional inactivity.  I know, these days take place…. Understand the entirety of the stage, and game.  Thinking of something new, so act.  Act and don’t think, deliberate, at all.  Collect, compose, move.  Telling self on my way just a short while ago, walking around the block, thinking about the day and why I let it get to me.  I share this because I want both of us to understand this.  Have more than perspective, but sense of what’s in front of us.  The stage and all its constituents.

Again thinking of event yesterday, that one speaker.  All his declarations and affirmations, citations of people who write and share their stories, and how no one wants to hear that. How can he be sure.  EOD, beginning another move, another plan for next week… get out of the office, get in front of people… speak Sonic, or don’t speak it at all.  Just meet people… again, say hi.  Re-branding entailing immediacy, evidence of fruition.  And it’s been before noted, but writing EVERYTHING, jotting it somewhere.  I find myself not putting into practice what I promote and profess.  That’s done on this 21st day… actuating what I advocate, on this 21st day of the project whose singular aim is finally framed and aglow.

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20

8/22/19. 

4:47. 

Just now back in office after being at a Small Biz Expo in the city.  Definitely offering ideas and new perspectives to things in the business world and life, but as well what not to do.  I do want to lecture and speak, but I never want to communicate or come across as this one guy, or should I say kid, 26, did.  Talking to the audience with condescending bend and always telling them to say ‘yes’, when he’d ask a question.  I could only question his expertise.  But, one idea of his, or two rather, that I did value was the stress of simplicity and not thinking.  He offered the idea that if someone goes to your site and they think too much, they’ll leave, or they won’t purchase.

Dad was right.  Even the village idiot holds a gem.  Or in today’s tell, 2.

Today stressed creativity and conversation, listening, and singularity.  Nothing I’m at all unfamiliar with, but still the presence makes me take notice, and a different form of notice.  Going into class tonight thinking about my creative, the day and how fast it passed.  How I need to, we all need to, inform and continue to educate our own creative tides.

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14

8/16/19

Busy day and I can’t get enough of it.  One appointment, found a prospect, and am working on another interested prospect.  More comfortable with the technological dimension and consistency to what I do here at Sonic.  Learning a new language, culture, way, manner, self.  Again, new story.  New character.  Character development and shift.

About to take a lunch.  Pizza Friday, of course.  Not having to buy lunch always puts a smile on the writer’s mask.  Desk more organized.  Day’s like today teach me to study why they’re days like today. The composition, the complexion, the pulse and the assembly of realities.

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1:38pm

Back from lunch, and still tired.  Sipping from the last coffee I got self, which was the first, from the breakroom.  Made one call, straight to voicemail.  Want to transact…. Want to fucking SELL.  Can feel myself getting impatient, and this IS valuable to readers in sales.  Don’t get impatient.  Don’t let yourself get lost in your impatient form of self.

Start with the people you know.  That’s all I can now muster and see and promising, beneficial.

Get enough sleep.  Tonight I will be sure to be in bed as soon as home.  Definitely before 9.  In order to know my Now, and control it to a point where I’m freed, I need adequate rest.  If I can get it.  You can probably tell that right now I’m a bit wandering and sluggish, more than usual.  So… keep working.  Get back on the bloody phone…

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4:37pm

Sipping the last of my sparkling cherry water and the last person in this “bullpen” as we call it leaves.  Time alone… time to think about today versus yesterday, and how I allowed mood and attitude to pollute my tune.  My music, my day.  Not this day, though.  I was overthinking, everything.  This job, and any, any vision or aim, any pursuit is as simple as starting a conversation, maintaining the conversation. This quite time to self is working.  More than working, it’s assembling self, more self.

Funny conversation off to my right, on the other side of the wall, girl telling one of her male friends that she’s going to dip her muffin in mayonnaise.  Not sure of the relevance, but I laughed nearly with audible reach.  I need to laugh more.  More comedy in my story.  Like with wine, and the industry, and how people take it so seriously and many times want to be seen as THAT person to go to for wine, rather than just shutting the fuck up and letting people drink…. I don’t know, I’ve always found comedic weight in that.  Composition, and story.  And to me yesterday, with my whatever it was… I should have just laughed.  I’m laughing now, truthfully.  Not thinking, just laughing.  Now they’re talking about some other food activity, with mayonnaise and cucumbers.  Have I told you I actually like cucumbers now?  I used to hate them when younger, or even into my more recent years.  But now, I like cucumbers.  Random, weird… just laugh.

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Not a matter of correcting,

but designing. And if you’ve stayed or parted from the design, you put yourself back in it. Don’t scold yourself. At all, much less excessively. Go back to your sight and self-promise, actuating your fire and story. Collect, breathe, calm. There’s another scene soon to start.

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9:58pm

Woke up just a shadow after 5 this morning.  No mood to write.  Sipping water now after only a bit of wine and craft beer.  Need to finish a book, that dream, or dreams, last night, this morning motioned.  In the city today, in the 10-month office of that startup, having me wound in thought like hyperactive cat, or something.  Not sure what I’m thinking right now, tired as I am.  Just knowing I need to finish my the book, or not—yeah, maybe I don’t.  Maybe I just need to post more.  To this very fucking blog.  Put everything into the world, every thought.  A book will come later, won’t it?  I’m tired and shouldn’t be writing.  Just before 10, should just go to bed so I’m assured a run at lunch tomorrow.  Need one, after how I ate today… the breakfast burrito, then that Italian chicken sandwich in Novato… then pasta for dinner, and a dessert (which wasn’t too heavy and crazy).  I know, it’s the exhaustion that has me overthinking.  SO, bed, writer. Go to fucking sleep.  If you want that office in Healdsburg, or the city, or offices in multiple towns like the show shop you met today, with two spots in NYC and one in Australia?  Or was it two in Australia?  One in NY?  Bed…  Couple more sips of the iced water…

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