Clocking in, as I resettle here in the bunker, back from a couple tasks in the Room, 12:04p. 4 shot mocha to right, haven’t yet sipped. Already miss the Room, its elements. Can’t give that focus, not in this session. I need to be a true writer, with demonstrative innovation, creative influx. First sip, surprising with its smolder. This office, a mess. Stresses me.
12:45p. Just finished writing my magazine article. Was dreading it. Not sure why. But, as I expected, once I started typing, it was done. The Chronicle event was one of those socials that changed the way I see vinoLit, Wine Journalism. Need rest. I want this cold, or what name this annoyance deserves, to fly away. It’s frustrating this wine scribe, more than debilitating him.