Believe What You’re Saying

Here we go again. I have a car coming at 6 o’clock for an eight o’clock flight to Miami. I haven’t packed a thing.

I’ve been told that my “I’m So Busy I Could Blank A Blank” journal entries are tedious. So I’ll spare you. Sort of. Just get this:

8:30 – Doctor’s appointment, 87th & Park
9:30 – Picked up contact lenses, 49th & Madison
10:00 – Work, 44th & Broadway
3:00 – Picked up watch from repair shop, 48th & Seventh
3:30 – Work, 44th & Broadway
7:00 – Picked up “The Rivington Session” CDs, Canal & Lafayette
7:45 – Met Chris, 80th & Amsterdam
8:30 – Recorded Chris, 80th & Columbus

That’s four subways, a bus, and a cab, in case you’re counting. And a whole bunch of walking. In the meantime, I wrapped up all kinds of rediculous Video Music Award details, filled my social calendar through mid-September, and registered for four New York Road Runner Club races.

Do I sound like I’m complaining? Whining? Not at all. I’m grateful that I have the energy, and the support. Still, I feel like my will is writing checks my body can’t cash. Fortunately, I have a bunch of Jay-Z on my iPod. Nothing motivates like, “99 Problems.”

Chris Abad, apprently, has been listening to The Hova. Kid’s got mad chops. He listens to a song twice, then proceeds to nail it. We recorded parts for “Harder To Believe” and Better Than That.” I might just get this new record out this year after all.

Meanwhile, my windows are thrown wide. It’s 65 degrees and breezy tonight. It feels like fall. Just in time to immerse myself in the permenant greenhouse that is Miami.

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