This is my journal entry from August 4, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Author in St. Petersburg — my real, unedited days, published in order.
Today I sold my gaming PC back to the owner of a local computer shop—the same man who helped me build it four years ago. Back then, it cost around $2,000. I sold it for $300, which is less than I could have gotten by parting it out on eBay, but I wanted the whole machine to go to someone who could make use of it. He can resell it for a few hundred more, and the sale was as much about connection as it was about money. Spending time with him, catching up, and handing the system over in person felt like the right ending.
Letting go brought a small pang of loss, yet the moment it was gone I felt a physical and mental lightness—like space had opened for writing. That clarity pushed me to list six more pieces of equipment on eBay. The momentum was energizing, and I’m eager to clear out all the old gear and start my next project: a book on content creation. I want to share my journey as a creator, from years of making videos to my transition into authorship. After this entry, I plan to dictate ideas for the outline, title, and central theme.
The day began early with tennis at 7:30 a.m., hitting with a neighbor who lives just a block away. We often see each other walking in the neighborhood, and he also works at the tennis club. He is far better than I am, and another strong player joined us for Canadian doubles—two against one, switching sides. The serves coming my way were some of the fastest I’ve ever faced. I had to stand farther back than usual, grateful just to get the ball over the net. It was intimidating, yet also exciting. After playing with the beginner yesterday and these two today, I felt genuine gratitude that such skilled players were willing to include me. I even contributed to the match, finishing the last point at the net with a quick two-direction put-away that left my teammate smiling.
Afterward, I showered and barely made it to power yoga on time. A conversation with the instructor there helped solidify my decision not to spend $3,000 on the upcoming teacher training this fall. At first the idea seemed appealing, but once I examined the details, it was clear the cost—both financial and in time—wasn’t aligned with my priorities. For $3,000, I could wrap my car with “Jerry Banfield Books” or cover a full year at the tennis club. The 200 hours of training could allow me to write five to ten books instead. It would also mean missing my ex-wife’s birthday weekend. I’m thankful I paused and thought it through before making an impulsive commitment. It’s interesting how often something looks exciting until you dig into the specifics and realize you don’t actually want it.
At home, my son was clearly in a growth spurt. He woke up with sore legs, a mild headache, and some dehydration. Once he began eating, his energy returned, though he still took five baths throughout the day and a three-hour nap. He even lost his front right tooth, which was a fun moment for all of us. My ex-wife took excellent care of him and also cooked steak, potatoes, and Brussels sprouts with bacon for dinner. I hadn’t planned to eat any bacon, yet the Brussels sprouts were tossed with it, and once I tasted the combination I couldn’t resist.
I also spoke with my sponsor and my sponsee, then attended my AA meeting. The theme of the day was simple but powerful: clearing out the old creates the space for what matters next.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.