Almost But Not Quite


So close, but so far.

So close, but no cigar.

Almost there, but a little further to go.

ARGH.

I thought it was all wrapped up, but no, it’s not.

And you know what?

I don’t give a fuck.

Pardon the French.

Because the shit’s going to work out, it always does, and I just don’t have the time to worry, or frankly the need, or honestly, the fucking belief, I am being taken care of and I am going to Burning Man and I am going to have fun.

So there.

Damn it.

The nebulous nanny schedule can just take a back burner to the present moment.  I am over being anxious.  In fact I am a little mad.

Not so much at the situation, but that all through the years of being a nanny I have never been dropped, some thing has happened, some family has shown up that has needed me for the exact days I needed to be covered and it all worked its way out.  Anger then, that I ever wasted time being worried, because it always worked out in the end.

No matter what.

I found out today that the family I thought was going to be a full-time solution is not going to be needing me full-time.

They can’t do it.

They can do three days a week.

I almost want to cry.

But really.

I have no energy for it.

Although I am blasting Underworld at the top volume level I think I can get away with before the housemate tells me to simmer down.

I wanted to give myself the extra push to get the blog writ.

I was pretty tired by the time I got on the train home tonight.

I had been at the nanny gig in Cole Valley an extra hour and a half and my brain was a little boggled by the whole thing.

The families met and it was a great match and then the bombshell.

Well, I see your bombshell and raise you an I don’t fucking care.

I mean I guess I do, or I should or I would, but I just surrendered to the thing of not having the ability to do anything more about it.

I can’t.

I leave for the Burn in, what the fuck is today, the eleventh?

No.

Shoot.

It’s the 12th.

I leave in three days.

I don’t have time to arrange, meet, interview, or field any other prospects.

I got what I got and the playa, God help me, will provide.

When has it not?

I am going to show up and do an amazing job because I am an amazing nanny and then I will come back go to New York, kick it with my friend, eat a fat steak, see some museums, go to the top of the Empire State building, stand on the arms of the Williamsburg Bridge and  cry out, “Hey man, well, this is Babylon,” and not the metropolis before me, but to the mindless cacophony in my brain of worry, anxiety, financial insecurity.

I ain’t got it.

It’s gone.

Bye bye.

Burning Man you beat me down before I could even get out to you and like a phoenix rising from the ashes of my unexpected change-up in employment, I will rise to the occasion.

I mean, what else is there to do at this point?

Surrender.

Go to the winning side.

Be grateful for what I do have.

I have a solid three-day a week share with two little monkeys and the other two days will come together.

I’ll just keep putting it out there, throwing it at the wall, and seeing what sticks.

Both the families adamantly expressed that should I find a full-time nanny share gig they would step back without rancor and bid me best of luck.

Gotcha.

So.

When I return.

I can look into that.

I can do lots of things.

But I ain’t got it in me to do anything else before I leave.

I just can’t.

I wanted to be rested and ready and rocked out for my adventure on playa.

Without further ado, I cede the job hunt until after the event and let it all go.

I am going to live like there’s nothing wrong and go have an amazing time.

I have a feeling this is going to be my best year yet.

I think I have always said that and it always is.

I don’t really look back and go, it was better when, I am not a jaded fuck, I have liked my growing involvement and evolution with the event.

Who knows.

Maybe I’ll pick up some hours at the organization.

I certainly know enough people there.

Nanny three days a week and then go do some office assisting for the organization itself or something.

I mean.

Really.

I do have skills outside of changing diapers and signing the “itsy bitsy spider.”

Things never quite work out how I think they are going to and somehow I am always taken care of.

As long as I continue to take action and focus on a spiritual solution to my “problems” I will be fine.

I mean, when I was in Paris I didn’t know day-to-day, let alone week to week, what my work schedule was going to be like or if I would even have any.

I am not arguing for the fact that I can continue to subsist like this, I would like solid employment, I see folks all around me somehow pulling it off and taking vacations and owning cars, they probably are no smarter or luckier or wiser than I, so I should be able to as well.

I have a great future in front of me and I know enough to not sneeze at work that is being offered from a family that in the two brief bits of time I met with, really like.

I told the mom to write-up what they could do.

We will start September 15th and go from there.

I repeat my mantra.

I am taken care of.

My rent is paid.

I have work for the next month.

The solution and the problem are two different things.

I know what I need to do.

And worry is not it.

It’s all working out without my meddling or anxiety.

Just you watch.

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