8-29-25

WFH today.

Couple communications already sent.

Yesterday, Construction…. Today, SURVEY.

What do I mean by that…. Surveying the scape.  All details, inventorying all actions, where I go and what I do.  This morning coffee with the Nurse and her youngest at Noto, haven’t been in weeks if not months.

Talking and realizing the promise to the day, again.  In a sharp way.

Slow day assured at work so the writer has time to catch up on Curriculum.  Starting to get bored of that word, looking for a substitute but then say to myself, “Why?” Either use it, or don’t.

9:43 AM.  Quiet in the loft.  Just what the writer needs – collect, survey the room and this makeshift office in the kitchen nook.

Another espresso….

Continuing survey—not just of the room, but me, today’s character and mood. What’s piled and filed where, what’s been left undone, what I’ve ignored long enough to become part of the scene and its ingredients. 

The pile of notes on the counter, the binder with all the intentions, the little sticky tabs that are more like confetti-ruin than reminders.

Surveying isn’t just tallying. 

It’s taking stock of what’s imperative and what isn’t.  

What has gravity, what is driftwood.  I think of a guitar leaning against a wall—hasn’t been played in weeks.  That’s a note in the survey too.  Not judgment, just observation.

Loft still quiet, but the thoughts never really are.  

The day has invite in it, even if it’s a slow one.  Maybe from being a slow one.  There’s more space between the steps when you’re not sprinting.

I remind myself that this survey isn’t about productivity points.  But, honesty.  A map of where I am, not where I wish I was.