inward jots…

Mike Madigan
2 min readMar 24, 2024

Downtown Vacaville. Place I’ve never been to before with the Nurse. In work form. Focused.

Sinatra playing from ceiling, that song where he says it was a very good year, citing how time passes and he’s getting older. Gives me more push and more nerves. List of acts and realizations in this search. Not overthinking but I already noted that.

And I just remembered, not much I can. It’s Sunday. Sending all these messages and wondering why I’m not hearing back. Well, moron, that’s why.

I refer to myself a lot of the time as a Sales Professional, and have dreams about the AE days at Sonic, BDM days at Kastle, and the joke of a tenure at the MSP. Can’t even bring myself to say its fucking name. Last night the dream where someone, now that I think about it may have been the Nurse… anyway, she said in sales you just have to get out there, keep moving, do everything. The someone else, not sure who, mentioned someone at one of the past companies, and how he just got it. Not thought, just decided it’s going to happen, and it happened.

Startup mindset and typing presently. Each day its own company and work, project and book, and when they arrive in a sequence like this with the work search, I’m taught more.

Wine and Fritto Misto arrive. Time to meditate and decide next scene…. 16:11

Time for another glass, and another app. Hummus and whatever it comes with. This search is telling me to mind more my pace, and approach. How and when I decide.

Blog everything… okay, calm down. And sometimes, do nothing. Just take in the Room, the scene where you are. Play with your own thinking and thoughts, what you manifest in imagistic prints.