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8:51am Back from taking kids. Woke to a text on my work cell from an old high school friend. Asked him where he got this number and he said online, so I guess from the Sonic site. He asked me if I remembered hitting on girls in the library. Old, again feeling. But dismissing it. Before getting into calling prospects and prospecting and following up on leads, I’m taking time for me. Will email students later.

Running as well, later. I don’t care how hot it is. 4 is target, 5 miles if I’m into a stride unfamiliar and one that reminds me what it’s like to be a real runner, the days when I’d get in 7 or 8 or slightly over 8 miles on lunch then getting back to the office feeling nothing, like I did nothing at lunch. Miss that route, around the Sonic office…. Sonic…. Thinking about the company, and its messaging, tis identity… where’s the 1948 journal? Found it. Not surprised how fond I am of this journal, a gift from Dad on Father’s Day I believe. He not knowing the validity or meaning of the 1948 stamp on the inner cover. Again like the call from my friend from high school this morning telling me time is moving, and moving quicker than I’m appreciating. Got a 4-shot mocha — I mean LATTE — this morning to race the clock, erase its significance with my production.

Send reports to Director. In a minute. I need this, this sitting, this peace with my page and caffeine. Call scheduled for later, prospective client…