Abundantly Clear

Don’ t you hate it when you take a spare 15 minutes and close your eyes and actually relax and think about attracting the things you want instead of struggling, striving and pushing for them.

So you do as the fruity self-help books say and make space for this new stuff and take two and a half boxes of crap to the thrift store.

And then a couple days later – here comes the harvest.

The past few days has brought a wealth opportunities – most I can’t comment on in detail because I’m waiting on confirmation of some details – if any co-workers are reading this – don’t freak out – it’s on-the-side stuff.

Plus, my blogging class is working out fantastically with over 70 participants and seven of them have already created their weblogs. I’ve never had such success with a pilot of a teleclass – and people are reacting very well to the open-learning, online ecampus environment. The actual calls start tonight – I’m doing three versions of teh calls – one is a weekly call, one is a Monday-thru-Friday arrangement and one is a marathon all day Saturday afternoon type of party.

I’m realize how much blogging can help nurture a reputation before you even meet people – probably less so with this personal blog – where I probably appear so strident and angry that no one would want to talk to me. But my pro blog is much more informative and practical. A friend was talking up my knowledge in a meeting and said – you know Andy from Coachamatic – and they’re all like ‘oh yeah, Andy! We know him!’

My dreamy side immediately starts concocting visions of ruling the world with my vision and expertise and I get so so so excited. Then my parents and sister provide a damp (I wouldn’t say fully wet) blanket that reminds me: be sure you’re getting paid. It’s a tough balance. I get so enamoured with being enamoured that I forget about being enumerated.

I think I’ve blogged this already – my adaptation of Antigone may get two productions in 2005. I’m excited to re-adapt it for the War on Terror.

Ron’s out for a day and a half. I’ve been charged with finding us a place to have Valentines Day dinner on Saturday. Last year I screwed up and we ended up at Firefly where I paid 30 dollars to eat a piece of fatty cow. No – it wasn’t marbled and tender – I was chewing on fat. It sucked. I’m thinking we’ll try for Angelinas this year. Mmmm. Chocolate bread pudding.






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