Tag: self-care

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that. Health/Wellness just writing LOVE!!!!! Productivity

2-5-25

14:22

Working in home office.  Kind of.  Not in a sales mood, and the mood I’m in is with cannons pointed outward.  Listening to LoFi in hopes it calms me but the writer feels himself coming undone.  Like a monster loosely assembled, constructed, or even thought out.

All the rah-rah shit from the conference yesterday worn off.  And I’m here frustrated, again.  With prospecting and how it comes so easy to some.  I’m struggling, and now freewriting and nothing I’ll put on blog. When I hit a certain curve and color maybe I will but I need these paragraphs for me.

Why not have another…..  Just being honest.  I need it, after the driving yesterday in that fucking atmospheric river or whatever they called it on the news showing over and over the big stretch of clouds or front “slamming into California” as they said.  Then the…..

No matter.  Here I am.  Wondering how I am here, in this position with this position and job and stress to sell.

That’s what I need to write about and only that – where I am and what I’m doing and what I’d rather not be doing.  Journal page for day filled.

I need a new Beat.  That’s certain.  More than certain.  Some people are just wired differently as my dad has always told me.  Why do I let it under any layer of skin.  Not looking anywhere for answers but right here.

In this room, in this condo which I need write in more.  Feel like taking a walk around the Green but I don’t have time.  Write, write till you find something I say to myself.

This track has me a little more optimistic and colorful.  Not listening to anyone or anything but my own inner narrator.  Like Kerouac narrating to himself in Sur, watching people move and listening to their speak in bars and the cabin, by the ocean, wherever.

New story.  A new one, what I need.  As in, seriously, immediately.

Starting with when I wake up.  Change time to 05:00.  Couldn’t this morning, but tomorrow no option.  No backup so just me and the kids for pickup tomorrow, drop-offs and then another couple pickups.

How can I be in sales with a schedule like this?  Seems like the Story is already in a fucked frame.  Oh well… what can I control?  Not going to fucking say “my activity” like they did over and over and more fucking over at the thing yesterday.  But more than any deliverable, my attitude.

How I see and translate what I see.  There’s a dozen other things I could be doing right now but I’m writing.  Just that… typing here in the loft, or first floor focus room.  Rain gone, and the sky unobstructed gives my more opened way more openness.

Imagine working and not hating it.  Crazy concept, I know.  Story of my life I think. Work.  And what I’ve done, what I’ve tried, and now how I’m in a panic.  “Maybe I should try construction… or law, be a paralegal or some shit…. How about retail?”  

WHAT.THE.FUCK.ARE.YOU.TALKING.ABOUT.

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that. Health/Wellness just writing LOVE!!!!!

Headlight for this Staunch Set of Eyez

11:08

Day taking off.  Typing at desk upstairs.  First meditation and concept… STRENGTH.  More than a motif or some trite repetition repeated throughout the week.  Everything requiring a decided fortitude and form, frame, formation of character Composition.  Nurse getting ready, me grateful with place purpose.  Part of this new fearlessness about me… 

Riled sense of poetry.  Verse.  New music –

Fearing nothing, I will have the HAPPINESS I fucking deserve.

That simple.

Dependent upon no Corporate gorilla, small business aims with far reach.

Just freewriting at the desk, in the home office and free-feeling.

My ambitions compounding this morning.  Thinking of my sister and what she’s accomplished, I know I shouldn’t be comparative but that’s where I am in deconstruction and this morning’s self-instruction.  Nurse, too.  Her story, her fight, her STRENGTH.

No need to any AI.  The set here is a fork in the Road and I’m taking both options, and writing a few of my fucking own.  I want to be challenged, I want to be tested… fuck it, I want to be fought.

Hearing Henry play down the hall, Emma teaching something, then finding her way to our room and Henry of course following.  FAMILY.. everything.  The STORY.

I’m the ALCHEMIST.  And the pen is in my hand, no one else’s.  Laugh at their piggish attempts to confiscate it.

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that. Health/Wellness just writing LOVE!!!!! Me, Wine Industry parenting life Productivity Readings/Writings wine

2-1-25

Raining still.  11:08.

Learning about this writer, what he wants, where he’s going.  More of an understanding.  Making the real into the most adventurous of adventures.

Coffee, Composition.  Who am I and what I want, like I’ve written countless times on this blog but now it comes to a newer and unusually and surprising fruition.

Didn’t wake early this morning like I wanted but here I am with a soul that’s sharper and more written and diarist than in past pulses.

Been playing with AI a bit lately with writing.  Just playing, not depending.  Not letting myself touch it this morning, or at all today.  Not in any serious stroke anyway.

Music.. embracing my addiction to music and fetish with photography. Looking through old camera, the vineyard pics, posting one now—  Miss the morning walks.  Written that before too… write everything, stay writing I tell myself here at the nook table with the Nurse on the other side.

I ask the Nurse if it’s still raining, she says “drizzly”.  Just what it is.  Perfect studio weather.

Looking for new music, starting with Zero 7, Bonobo, Thievery…. DJ?  Maybe.

Nurse playing old hip-hop, 90s… now I want turntable.

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that. just writing LOVE!!!!! photog sales-y

1-26-25

Brainstorming and making moves with Nurse in loft.  10:14

Early start this morning, happiness and ZEN.  Ned idea.  Yes another one.  Pushed ever more forward by the espresso and the lightning storm of urgency in its tasty circuitry.

Calm, Sunday, day to collect, day to write and journal and see what is ahead of this writer, blogger.  Wine last night speaking to me, reminding me of my shop, the #vinovinevin thing.  That’s it more than a thing, or idea.

Taking pictures of fucking everything.  Meeting a girl yesterday in Marin who is a photog, and sharing several of her project ideas with the Nurse and I.  Lunch in SF in the Outer Mission with the Nurse’s youngest, an El Salvadorian restaurant that reminded me of the Field Sales days in all parts of SF.  

Everything an idea, a story, something market and narrate, to brand.  Family, a day so happy it’s hard to even conceive that it’s your life.  That’s where I am today in my mood, and I’m making it a product.

How to realize and decide this mind.  HAPPINESS, imagine that.

Quiet loft, somewhat windy, Sonoma County telling me to look closer.  Journal more, stop thinking, don’t collaborate with any AI layer.  Just be where you are and write with a bizarre freedom.

The small business, like my friend Jess and her mother’s shop.  Inventory, the branding and what to do from one day to next.  Telling your story, then telling it again.  Next day or the same day, but differently.

MY STORY – new sharpness, new magnetism, blade, language, shape.  In everything, EVERYTHING.  Even in washing the pans from yesterday morning when the Nurse made the kids breakfast as she always does.

What am I selling, nothing.  What am I speaking – Happiness, Creative, Small Business, the stories int he small business and how retelling it shows you whatever it is you’re searching and seeking, or seeing as something that can just be dreamt.

Goddamnit, why am I just having this thought now.  Better late than never yeah I guess, but I’m still asking.

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that.

1-20-25

15:21 

Day off.  Was stressing about work earlier, but then after meeting Nurse at her work and talking a bit, I’m not even thinking about it.  Taking her counsel to the heart within a heart’s heart – enjoying the day.  No stress, just collection, rest, meditation.

In Vacaville home, laundry going.  Espresso.  About to let in cat, whose middle name is now Jefferson.  Thought of it while driving, trying to talk myself out of this work-caused mood-mud.

Walked around Barnes & Noble in Fairfield, waiting for the Nurse to be released for lunch break, looked at books, magazines, was caught by photography, photographers… passion, not working ‘cause you have to or anything obligatory but a PURSUIT.

Anytime I visit the Nurse at the hospital, or if I’m doing something till she’s off, this goes through my thinking.  And I’m frustrated with self still, to be honest.  Why did I put my faith in academia?  Teaching?  Thinking that the adjunct thing would lead to ANYTHING.

Nothing I can do, here I am.  Left camera in Windsor, and could fucking kick myself for doing so.  Move on, I tell myself.

Haven’t written in the EVERYDAY in too long.  Will after these types.  My mind is a spastic fly right now.  15:29

One idea then back to it, then to another, then another then—

Like those flies that smack into walls repeatedly and you ask yourself, “What the fuck is it doing?  Can’t it see the wall is not going anywhere?” Maybe this is espresso writing in these zigs and zags, zigzagging plumes of indecision.

Indecision… that is something I need to attack.  And like, today.  No more waiting.  What do I do… do I stay with teaching?  Obviously fuck no.  But then I think about construction, or project management.  What???  Where did that come from?

I’ve learned that sometimes, when your mind is a spastic fly, the only thing you can do is follow it. Let it buzz. Let it land. And if it smacks into a wall? Well, that’s just part of the process.  And the process is sometimes painful, and frustrating.  You criticize yourself but then think what the fuck is that going to do.  Then you realize that the inwardly-tossed shots are part of this “process” too.  Then you question if the process is even a process…

Like the Nurse says, I overthink to a point where it’s humorous.  That little wood block in our condo’s kitchen, in the coffee corner that reads something like, “Hold on, let me overthink this.” So true of this writer.

Immensely true.  Day passing me and I’m on my final sips.  The espresso echoes in my concentration, waiting for the Nurse to get home.  This post, a little scribbling, then get ready for our dinner date.  Thai food, she said.  Can’t wait.  I still get those first date nerves with her, can’t believe it.  But then, yeah, I very much believe it and understand and am grateful, often saying to myself – FUCKING FINALLY.

Sip…

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that.

Coffee, laundry.  Still cold out, about 50 degrees.  So, cozy Saturday inside with kids. 

Playing basketball with Jack and Emma later, and of course little Henry will get involved which always makes me smile and bend in little laughs with his energy and attempts.

Over word goal for day, now just looking at old shots again.  Emma as a little, little girl, the vineyard.  Thinking about time and where I put my energy, and why fear in me, any kind to any degree, is dead.  It’s just not something I feel anymore.  Beginning with this morning’s early types.

I have a love affair with coffee.  That much I know.  It’s always here.  Some would say I’m a wine writer or blogger— NO.  it’s coffee. Coffee wins.  Coffee always wins, and always will.

Losing the want to write.  Emma already ready, as is Jack.  11:38, and we’re so far ahead of schedule it’s unusual, and a little uncomfortable.  Know what to take from fridge….  And….  Hmmmm…..  Circling, circling.  Oh yeah, take camera.

Still sipping from this cup of black god-water.  Why?  Because throwing out coffee feels criminal, like wasting gold or free samples at Costco.  So I sip again, grimacing, feeling my pupils dilate to dinner-plate size.  By the next sip, I’m inventing problems just to solve them. Cleaned the fridge. Alphabetized spices. Decided the Nurse’s cat needs a middle name.

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that.

07:28

Nothing happening.  The soundtrack, the metallic hum or hiss, can’t decide which, of the light above me, and some crow outside in the distance.  Everything in this kitchen nook strangely is demanding my attention and telling me to work.  The temp, low.  Turning heater on in a bit.  Staying awake and not going back to bed, bringing Mike Madigan to this table to write, the first Win in the day.

It’s quiet in here, but not.  Everything is singing to me, and calling, encouraging…. The crow again.  Only two caws, or blahs.  Again, don’t know how to deem it.  Kids asleep.  Just waiting for the first call, and invasion.  Took a shower last night but tempted to take another to keep me awake.  Just keep moving, I tell myself and like my dad would tell me he told himself on those long days and nights flying, those trips that started in one day and cut into another.

This floor of the condo, the loft floor, remaining me of the Twilight Zone for some reason, or some movie like that.  Suspense or Ghost spook shit meets Pottery Barn, or Wayfair.  This condo continues to amuse and move me.  I live here, in disbelief and gratitude and could slap the shit out of myself when I get in those moods, funks or lulls, especially when provoked by an antithesis.

This morning though, no mood like that.  Can still see the Nurse at the island counter with me sipping our lattes and laughing about events yesterday, some things we collaborated on, and, well, I’ll save it for the book.  The Nurse is the anchor this morning.  Her work, her smile, how she’s skilled at fucking everything.  I swear, how does she do that?  Even when she washes something in the sink I’m like, most people don’t do it like that.

Changing topic otherwise eyes will roll if they’re not already, wine and wine business. Yes.. I’m going back.  And as a somewhat covert opp.  The VVV idea, after a text yesterday from T….  She and I sold so much fucking wine together back in the day.  So why not again. Why not play off the whole Professor thing, again.  Why not make money, and put it away for…….??

…..

07:47

Waking kids in a bit.  Henry with his 09:00 appointment, and then the tired wraps itself around me.  Not even a full sip left in the latte.  Shit… might make one of the Nespresso shots..  No steps heard from third floor.  The peace and time to SELF still in tact.  They were in bed rather early last night, for a Friday night and family night where we were all here for dinner.  Everything talked over – work, that one thing, the engagement, my sister’s wedding later this year, that one thing again, and then just laughing and chatting while I did the dishes.

Grateful isn’t the right word.  Maybe shocked is, that I have a family like this.  So positive and loving and present, and how we have each other’s back through ANYTHING.  How I want to build my business…. And so it goes.

HAPPIEST Communications.  Starting with the first word.  Don’t be happier, be HAPPIEST.  And see if you can keep going, getting happier, and more grateful for what you have… your business and family, health, that you are here.  That you ARE.

Heater on, and the sound is calming, make me more mindful, today’s draft of Mike Madigan, 2025.

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that. LOVE!!!!!

Today’s Caffeinated Clarity

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.

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that.

journal

……..

14:52

So I had to give up the fiber lead.  Long story, and maddens me and not in the good way even thinking about it.

Nothing feared.  Not anymore.  Deciding something, and moving forward … not feeling any one way that I’m not selling like others, or at fucking all.

Know where now to put energies.  Won’t have time to write later so I fit in a couple words now.  Nearing end of day, and the writer compiling his confidence and conviction.  This year, where I get and do and free myself from whatever I want.

That simple.  Not letting any energy, whether good or bad, favorable or antithetical, make me feel one way or another.

Fires in L.A. and surrounding areas or counties, still fires.  Still being fought.  Hard to believe.  Seems like our fires, the 2017’s, were forever ago.  But when I hear these flames talked about on the news or radio, or while out or at work, I’m brought back to 10/9/17.  The early morning, where we fled.

The day has been weird, and this week I wanted to be a project was one where I excavated my own attitude and perspective, how I interpret moments, differently.  And now, day before the week’s last set of pages, I’m telling self not to care as much.

Don’t feel you always have to respond, and if you do don’t rush.  I mean, why?  What would it do if you rescind immediately versus 10 or 20 or 30 or 60 minutes later?

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#blogeverythingnow HAPPINESS. Imagine that.

1-17-25

07:47…. Writing less, I reasoned this morning after waking up at 5-something.  More living, then report back.

Nurse on her way out early, Jack home sick.  Emma and Henrito ready, watching a kids show while I do a couple things in the kitchen.

Yesterday, the EOM sales blitz or whatever stupid thing they call it, draining.  I got an appointment out of it, but not sure that will form into anything.

Approaching a timeline’s end, I can feel it.  No matter, have things in place.  Staying in tech and content, attending a conference later in the year, around my birthday.  For startups and VC’s, software people, that kind of thing.

Passion, what I’m chasing.  2025 is about PASSION, and happiness, doing whatever the Nurse and I want, and when we want.  With not qualification or explanation.

Love this power and freedom I feel, and how it angers the antithesis.  A word meaning, well, you know…

07:51…. Nurse sends another cute text.  I canNOT with this girl, I swear… how I’m so lucky to be in her Story and she in mine, will never know.  

Some puss-formed boil recently tried to taunt me with, “I don’t know why you always have to be attached at the hip,” or some stupid shit.  Honestly, they don’t need to know.

And, they’re not intellectually or emotionally or even just humanly capable to “know why”.  So kindly button your gross bitchy beak.  And don’t stress your micro little gnat brain.

That felt good, now moving on an never addressing such antithesis—  SHIT.  Time to go…