Tag: Mike Madigan blogger

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just writing

Sent out contract, restarting AE laptop so update can run.

Have to use restroom but don’t want to get up.  May buckle in my convictions and head to HQ, avoid the visit fee at coLAB.  OR, I could make it worth it.  YES.. I will.

Update done already.  Huh, that was quick.  Usually takes forever and 5-7 business days.  In any event, the ideas are gifting me this morning… added to list, the meta of the idea, what it is and what it can do, if more insular – more inward jotting and conversation, less reliance on other humans no matter how seemingly saccharine.

Anywho…..  Monday morning.  Adding that to the list as well… writing about Mondays and how horribly stereotyped they are.  SHAME, I call.  Abominable lastima!  I’m more than composed in this chair, seeing only MY office and story – my eventual base, be it wherever.  Now looking at new domicile styles and locations, not letting other shove me to one street or another.  Not meant as a barb, more as a self-criticism and evaluation.. I need to be more a writer, especially when not writing.

61 days in year counting today.  Okay…. To coLAB.  Taking parcels of Sonic story and offering new architecture, tongue and lens.

Categories
Health/Wellness

Sent in reports, emailed students.

Not allowing any negative octave or provocative voice or behavior to the room, today or ever.  Keep quiet and off any radars, except for this blog.  Ten posts, the goal today.  All strength oriented (“strength”, added to list…)…

Making a couple tough decisions today.  Needing to be made, for my story and composition, character. 

Consolidation, don’t invite anything or anyone else to the page…. Some characters should see this coming, if they truly knew me or had a sense of my character.  That’s just actuality, no embellishment.  No matter how much they posture and provoke and theatrically communicate and display, this story WILL not momentarily morph.  Ever.

I talk about strength like it’s an item, but it’s nothing of the sort.  It’s climate, its presence.

Should hop into the AE story soon, but…..  not yet in the mood.

SELF reports.  For ME, not any company….  Taking the form of notes to start, the perhaps something with a little more defined shape later.

Not digging this Starbucks, all the noises, people that will occasionally sit behind or to the side of me… what do I do.  NOT working at house today, no fucking way, and not in the mood to be in the office.  Possibly coLAB later in morning.  Toughing this out for now.

Listening to Tycho, imagining my office, on December 5th which probably won’t happen but still imagining.  Setting a scene, staging it but nothing like that dingy townhome I visited yesterday.

Mapping week…..  Friday dinner with a friend then working backwards.  Lunch with referral partner on Thursday, meeting with **** on Wednesday.  Cancelling something on Tuesday and may be doing the same for tonight, not sure.  The idea of taking a sick day, for ME and so I can write somewhere, blog from a café in Napa or SF or Bodega Bay somewhere sounds thrilling, needed.  Yes… going to happen, but probably week after next.  Want to get a sense of the month, business-wise.

Love this track, “Past Is Prologue”.  Dream-like, relaxing but antagonizing.  Needed, at 8:58am.  People in here, getting their coffees.  I’m still fascinated by the baristas and how fast they move, like my kids last night whilst trick-or-treating, Emma especially.  I couldn’t keep my eyes off my little poetess – her eyes inspecting every house and its lighting, determining the viability of a visit, if there’s candy there.  WAIT…. That’s prospect.  I’ve found something in this symbol and allegory…. Does the prospect seem sweet.  Just look around, make a judgement.

9am, guess I have to start day.  Feel self wanting to message someone but won’t allow.  Focus on present, this seat and barista noises, 4-shot latte… this new month and the contract I’m about to send out.  Remember how I’d tell certain people about my day and they’d offer back the “Yeah?… Uh huh….” Then just tell me all about their day at a such a voluminous rate and texture and quantity I couldn’t even do the ‘Yeah?….Uh huh….” thing.

SCENE.   

Categories
just writing

9am – Latte, 4 shots, needed after yesterday and a night of off-an-on sleep.

Add minimalism to list.  Older I get I’m always looking for something to throw or give away.  All the “things” slow you down.  This book to my left, a big wine book that I bought at a Novato bookstore just because of its size and all the information in it.  Basic information, but it was like $25 and I thought why not.  Regretting now, but the gem of the example is it’s another THING to move or lug around.

The curiosity and want to get a new camera has all but evaporated and fully dissipated.  Only writing, only blogging…. In a mood this morning coming back from and a bit going to the new Starbucks.  Dismiss it, I tell myself.  So much noise around me…. All I want is quiet, my own place and space and entire uninterrupted way.

Set a schedule of hypothetical payments, and they’re not cheap.  Need other operations to make next months, and the month after.  Teaching at the community college going away I need to replace rev’…. How.  One idea, then another, then another which I’m not a fan of but it’s attractive and I’m not yet shedding it. 

Hungry and tempted to make a breakfast sandwich, the only thing on my inclusive menu, like I did yesterday.  Keeping self in fast, and not breaking it.  Not till after 12pm.  Not failing with this one.

Charging watch… now what.  Everything thought has application… apartment, condo, townhome, house, what’s next…. Minimalism.  All I need is a room and a page, on this laptop or a Composition Book, or the new Paris Journal from SEA.

Wrote back, friend asking for input on her cover letter and CV.  More ideas… build, move… more notes.

Categories
just writing

7:57am, in office. No music yet. Wrote this morning, incredibly early.

Not ready to edit or post or copy and paste from phone to here.  Not yet.  Last day of the month to sell something.  How likely?  Not likely, at all.  So, I’m laughing at it, honestly.

Two matters to handle but may put off till Monday.  So tired, from waking as early as I did.  Head still in Sunriver, to be expected I guess, not having been on a vacation like that since…. Who knows.

Goddamn caffeine isn’t working.  Looking for a remedy or solvent for this block or stall in writing.  8:01am now, okay.. can leave for home to take a nap in about 2 hours.

Need to be writing OFFBLOG more like I noted this morning.. be more free, whether self-talking or working on a wine article or sketch, or running and how I keep putting it off…. Wake earlier, go to the gym, first thing like your friend and their roommate.  That’s the answer to much, I know.

When you’re tired, like now, you just kind of stop caring and be in a freer speed line to line.  Even punctuation, who cares.  

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Health/Wellness

Source of Transport

Writing break over but not.

Happiness, and in a containment.

How is vacation over?  Wasn’t I just in that Starbucks in The Village, writing?

Here I am, in office.  Moving quick, nearly time for lunch.  How did that happen?  Time, not a matter of HOW it’s happening, just understand it IS happening and you either move or get passed.

Another writing break, WHY NOT.  Thought of something, wrote it down after talking to someone who has her own business and does freelance social media marketing.  Nearly lose my breath with this new idea and the one accompanying it… whoso….. save for later, don’t elaborate here.  I won’t.

Writing like I’m re-written as a human, as a person in this chair.  Time can’t touch me, even minutely or partially.  Second cup nearly dead… then done.  No more coffee.  A break. 

Someone talking loud in the next room, and curving my concentration not in any way I like.  Don’t listen…  I don’t.  “Right?….Right?……..RIGHT?” Person says, over and over.  Is he asking, or is he looking for validation or confirmation?  Now fascinated, not annoyed.

The shift…. Stopping me, forcing collection. Ignoring phone, email.  Simplify and some cases ignore…

Communication, with self.  MORE.

Categories
just writing

In office and sipping this coffee as forcefully as I can, quick.

Long list of to-do’s but driving home last night I thought of the detachment philosophy, not caring as much and doing as much as you can with little to no pressure.

Item 1, of course, go through emails…..  Just found out I have a lunch today, at noon?  That’s news to me….  Will get a confirm call around 9, and if not I’ll just be there anyway.  Not really dressed for a lunch so I guess back to house to change…. Then dentist later, at 4, maybe.  Thinking of cancelling it, just eating the cancellation charge.

Getting kids at EOD, then dinner.

This is what I hate about “vacation”, the storm when you come back.

Already knocked off a couple things from list.  See?  I’m thinking too much about it, too attached and just too obsessed or into it.  Another thing off the list, then another….

8:51am, need to email a client in a bit, an email I’m not looking forward to sending but have to since they want us to…. Never mind, not worth taking up the screen here.

That day, when you’re back from vacation, my friend David just saying “Welcome back to your punishment for taking vacay…” I laugh, one because it’s funny and two because I refuse to have a bad day back… that just sounds funny this morning, “bad day”.  Not happening.

Have to go through emails, and putting it off.  Why.  What am I afraid of?  Nothing, in a word.  Just don’t want to do it.  I will, just give me a couple…..

Coffee nearly done.  Shit.

Quick call with Sales Engineer… got through a couple emails.  “Oh yeah, I’m sure your email’s fucked..” Ditter the Engineer said, me laughing right along with him.  I have to simply unfuck it, right?

9:35, about to call a client for nonpayment.  This should fun and awesome…

Luckily he didn’t pick up.  Sent that email I didn’t want to, or wasn’t looking forward to. Not sure why I worry so much.  Not letting self anymore.  Have this second cup of coffee…

10:18… still cruising through emails.  Friend asks me if I like shrimp, I tell them I don’t trust people that don’t.  Not sure why I said that.  Obviously joking, but still, random… 

Writing break.  Think I might already be done with emails, or close to it.  Partially I’m happy but the other I’m sad and insecure. I need to build my book of business so that people are always emailing me… the Starbucks or tasting room metaphor.  People just coming through the door.

Good choice, coming to office this morning.  As I saw it, it was the only choice.  Was going to type time but it doesn’t matter.  Taking the day as a whole, a book.

No lunch at noon opens things up a bit… A salad at 3rd Street would be amazing.  OH, call to make, possible lead from this Sonoma business group I’m connected to over Facebook.  Called, left voicemail.

Categories
just writing

journal

Return to the wine industry… the thought makes my fucking skin crawl, and reject itself, reject ME for even thinking about it.  I swear, me and these fucking moods.  Where did this one even come from?  Had it since I woke up….  Is it the leave tomorrow?  Is it quota stress and if so fucking WHY.  You had a contract land this morning because you followed up, and you’re on vacation.  Seriously, I say to myself, lighten and toughen the fuck up.

…can go over this later, of course OFFBLOG.  Or maybe just in pen, in the Paris journal.  Filled one page while at SBUX.  Only had a 3-shot while there, so I can’t expect that to last too long.  My bloody caffeine addiction, and yes it’s an addiction.  Have cut back, but…..  My relationship with SELF and the current page, the last full day of vacation.  Say to myself, “FUCK IT.” Take a power nap, message that conversation and see where it goes… exploration with these humans, these characters.  Makes me think of Basic Instinct, how the author was only with Douglas’ character for her new book, or at least that what she implied in that one part where he goes to her house to find her printing pages.

……..

I just got here.  Why do I have to leave already?  I’ll be back in 90 days.  That’s the plan.  Going forward, every 90 days in Sunriver, somehow.  Except maybe the winter where it’s snowing and icy and I might spin out ‘cause I’m not used to driving in that shit.  90 days from now would be… 1/26/21.  I have to push back Paris.  Maybe to my birthday or around it.  Perfect.

Categories
Health/Wellness

Up before 7 this morning, walk to the river.

First walk like that in over ten years.  Can’t believe I’m here.  My thinking, clear, like the air.  All the scents from when I was younger welcoming me back this morning – the sweet wood smell, the wild grass, weeds, trees… how the air through trees up here sounds completely different than Sonoma County or anywhere else.

Stopped at a hole at the North Course, just looked out.  I remember the bike paths for the most part, except parts that were changed recently.  The shop, the little restaurant where my cousin Nick and I would get a hot dog and soda, then go to the driving range and hill balls.  Everything closed now for season, looking like a ghost town, reminding me of…. What.

Mom and I this morning getting coffee at the Starbucks in “The Village”, what I used to call the mall when younger.  Now typing at the bar, or counter, what last night I called the Maury Mountain Bar.  Mom laughed… I had the Malbec in my glass and we talked till past 12am.  She never stays up that late but the shock of me here, and if not shock then realization.  I’m here.  I did the walk by myself this morning that I’ve been dreaming of for nearly ten years.  No challenge, no guilting me, no comments or remarks or skirmishes, looks.

Enough of that.  There is no comparative, there is only NOW.  Mom, Dad, and I plotting our day.  River walk in Bend, leaving here at 2.  Then, glass of wine and dinner at Lodge.  Beside myself excited and literally feel like doing what people say they should do in this type of time and feeling… pinch yourself.  This entry is my pinch.  My writer’s retreat.

Here.

NOW.

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autre

10:15am

Nearly done with cup 2, readying to leave.  Want to walk around see what’s here.  Ladies at table in front of me, new group, 3 total, run into an old friend and then some other friends.  They’re drinking mimosas and loud.  More Bloody Mary’s.  And someone ordered a beer I saw on the waitress’ tray.  Getting crowded and I’m needing to leave.  If one more person bumps my table…

Tiredness comes back.  Pound rest of coffee….  Mask back on.  Shit.

Where do I want to travel next… maybe Santa Barbara for a wine event.  See if there is one first.

Categories
just writing

Seattle, WA.

……..

Airport.  Some café around the corner from my gate.  May be able to depart earlier with another flight around 1, but I have to check in the gate attendant told me, to see if someone didn’t make it or cancelled or something.

See some around me already having wine, beer, some cranberry-based cocktail.  Not me.. too early.  Will write more about the flight later, but it wasn’t as bad as I feared it’d be.  Turbulence at the beginning, one scary bump and shift of the plane, then it was over.

9:13am, more people file into the café and sit at the bar.  Couple things on my mind but I’m letting go of them.  Focusing on where I am, what I’m doing.  Here, finally traveling.. Seattle before my connector flight to Redmond. 

Waitress brings me coffee, just black.  Asked if they made lattes even though I’m trying to quit but figured I’m on vacation why not be at least a little bad.  Mask off, finally.  Shit, been on my face before the flight and during the flight which was about an hour, twenty minutes. 

Oh my god that coffee is amazing.  Well, I am in Seattle right?  People around me talking and rushing, looking at their boarding passes making sure they remembered their times right.  Others just go to the bar, order their Bloody Mary, look at their phone with the mask just below their chin.  Surprised how busy the bar is and how the bartenders already seem flustered or stretched thin.  This airport is amazing, I say to myself and text my parents and sister.  Sure it’s like every other and Mom and Dad have been through this space a hundred-plus times during their airline careers.  But this is new to me.  New again.  Already planning my next trip.  Won’t let self bring laptop, just ONE journal.  Pack even lighter than I did this trip.

Not sure I’ll get in a run when in Sunriver, probably just workout in room tonight a bit and if not run first thing tomorrow matin.  An older man sits at the bar right in front of me and orders a Bloody.  The bartender asks if he wants a double.  “Double’s fine…”, man says.  “Actually you can go triple with it.” Wow, I think to myself.  Must have been a rough flight.  Shit, maybe I should start drinking early.  I did yesterday, but waited till after noon.

Travel… music… how the music on my phone completely helped with any nerves present which this morning weren’t many even during the brief turbulence spell and cells.  I stop to look around, don’t want to write for a couple seconds or possibly minutes so my fingers halt.  Pick up coffee, and take in everything, every human and character around me.  Two ladies at tall table in front of me sipping white wine, one of them with an open laptop.  They must be on a business trip.  How do I travel more, I ask myself… with the photog project and blog, the new camera.  Will probably buy one while in Sunriver, drive to bed for the day with Mom and Dad and get one of those Cannon models I was shopping the other day and this morning.

Mom messages me, asks if I’m awake.  How could I not be… moving, On The Road… I’m Sal Paradise this morning, everything music and everything a photograph, painting, a play.  This coffee, unimaginably flavorful and authentic, its own form of music.  Place, scene, movement.  Someone else orders wine, and I just wonder how.  Not judging, but examining character, the story I don’t know.

Tiredness hits me a bit, so I sip deeper and in near-angry angle.  People in back of me laughing, waiter passing me to get to another table.  They’re playing oldies, part of me bobs my head then the other is too tired to continue.  Shouldn’t have brought this laptop, not sure why I did. I guess to deal with something in the AE story if it pops up.  Trenton my IT buddy texting me last night while at dinner with a friend, telling me the 4 site contract will land next week.  Hoping so.. want to start building conversations for 2022, and get into the BDX office.  BDX, the new abbreviation, like an airport.  So enlivened being here, I nearly don’t want to leave and dread the arrival of my confirmed flight as well as and especially the earlier one I might catch.

Waitress asks if I want another coffee and at first I say no but then she like the bartender asks again and I have to say yes.  Will sip slow.  Fist cup, or glass, nearly done…. How will I approach photography.  Do gigs for free at first, maybe a couple handfuls.  Then start charging… family shoots, or wineries maybe that want new visuals…

Fist glass done.  Haven’t sipped from second, yet.  Text my “Seattle Mom” Carol last night letting her know I was going to be in her town, here at the airport.  She told me her and her husband Peter are leaving on a flight at noon and should be here at 10 which is in 15 minutes.  Texted her this morning and haven’t heard back, and I’m not mad or anything as into this table and this chair, the coffee and café that birthed it I am.  I look up and see a Coach store.  Will go in later when I walk around.  Not hungry, yet… just devouring the characters and this airport, the actuality that I’m FINALLY travel after YEARS of wishing and being discouraged by some voices.  No more. Now, FREEDOM.

THIS.  IS.  FREEDOM.

Not what it looks like or seems, but actually is.

Jesus… I cannot believe how delicious and bewitching this coffee is.  Already nearing 1000 words.  Already?  This proves it, I need more travel.  Next trip, Colorado.  Aspen.  The wine & food festival they have.  Now I do want a glass of wine, but will refrain for all those wondering.  Ha ha….  This is too much, and not enough, and just right.  This is love, I’m finally LIVING.