Don’t Panic!

by

Or panic.

But whatever you do.

Don’t panic.

Or sit on the side lines and watch self panic and giggle.

Then go to the End Up and dance your ass off.

Last night as I was finishing up my soup blog I received a text that immediately precipitated a “I’m going to panic at any moment.” episode of anxiety.

I frantically spooned soup into Mason jars and thought, “oh, dear Lord, what am I going to do?”

Death in the family?

No.

Lost a job?

Nope.

The tax man cometh?

Niet.

STD results positive.

NOPE.

None of the above, and probably not what any human being with half a, sane, brain, would deem as panic worthy.

What happened was that I was informed that my services as a nanny would not be needed for the rest of the week and until next Thursday I am off.

Like six days.

Like oh my fucking god, what the fuck do I do?

Panic.

“Honey,” he said with a gruff chuckle, “that’s what you do, you are so used to panicking that you just go straight there.  Why don’t you just tell the kid, to shut up and let you take care of it.”

The kid, being me, the panicked little girl who is afraid that she is going to be homeless without work and a steady stream of it happening right now.

Suffice to say that after getting paid today I have rent for March set aside and I have a few ducats in savings.

In addition to that, I spent a good portion of yesterday after I worked a 9 hour shift, did the deal, and blogged a post of over 1200 words, I cooked up enough soup to last me through the millenia, I’m not running out of food any time soon.

Or at least until next Thursday when I go back to work.

Nope.

Panic strikes.

Partially because I dont’ know what to do with all that time.

Also, there’s a part of me that equates time off with spending money.

Which makes complete sense, as that’s when I have the time to run errands.

Six days off, may completely break my bank, is what my brain tells me.

Truth is, I am ok.

Oh, I could be better and there’s always more work to be done.

But.

“Why don’t you try to have some fun,” John Ater said to me.

Ugh.

Fun.

Ok.

Fun.

Here we go.

Impromptu dance party with a friend I don’t often see as he’s in school and I am in work most the days we could hang out.  He saw my post about this time off and said, let’s have coffee and tiny dance party at your house.

Dude.

Down with that.

He just left.

Why?

I actually got the text from the land lord to simmer down.

Bahahahaha.

Can’t remember the last time that happen.

But it is a school night and we were being boisterous.

My friend co-opted my OkCupid profile and made it more “approachable” and he said I had to give it the 48 hour test, not touch the changes he made, there is one that I want to, but the rest are actually pretty damn good upgrades to what I had written.

But it was hilarious and hey, wait a second I am having fun and I don’t have to wake up at 7 a.m.

Hmmm.

Of course, I did boot my friend so that I could do my blog post and wind down for the evening.  He joked that he expects I will be up at 6:30a.m.

Nope.

Maybe 7 a.m. though.

It’s hard to get my body out of that mode when I am used to getting up at 7a.m.

I actually pre-wake before my alarm and look at the light in the sky, I can generally tell if it’s worth while to get up, the alarm is imminent and I don’t want to hear it, or if I can still snatch a few more minutes of sleep.

I said, “Shaddup, I won’t go to bed until midnight.”

I had to shush him laughing at me.

Ooh.

Up so late.

I will however, be getting up at a decent hour so that I can shower and clean my place and have things tidy and neat since I am meeting a girlfriend for lunch and then I am getting my massage that I have had booked five weeks ago in.

After which a little meet up with Mister Ater and some fellowship up in the Haight neighborhood.

I have the same Saturday plans as always with a speaking engagement thrown into the afternoon, but come Sunday, I am dancing.

I am, indeed, going to the End Up.

I had a friend text me a week ago about it being a holiday on Monday and we should go out dancing at the End Up.

I declined, I have to work that Monday, I said.

But then one family decided to go out-of-town to visit family and then the other family had an unexpected schedule change pulling them out-of-town too.

And holy shit, I can go dancing at the End Up on a Sunday night before the holiday on Monday.

It is going to be some hot ass people watching, puhleeze, three-day weekend in San Francisco with Monday off?  The End Up will be full on cray cray.

Should be some fun in that.

I will be sleeping in Monday.

Hey y’all who wants to come dance with me Sunday night?

Let’s do it.

Monday got nothing planned.

Tuesday a friend and I will kick it, and he’s the one selling me the scooter, so I will probably be doing all things scooter and having some coffee and catch up.

Wednesday evening I take the course, the classroom part, anyhow for the Motor Cycle Safety class.

Then Thursday back to work.

That’s a lot of down time and not a lot of down time already.

I have stuff happening and I know enough to realize that something is shifting in my world and to go with it instead of freak out and panic.

I will be new places and have new opportunities just from a little shake up in my schedule.

This could be great fun.

Let’s not panic and have a blast.

Who’s in?

 

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