Keep On


Keeping on.

I am making it through.

For the first time since I started the new job I did not feel exhausted when I got home.

I even made a pit stop for an hour at 7th and Irving and saw some folks I haven’t seen in a while.  That was super nice and relaxing and the ride home down Irving Street was chill too.

Lovely that the construction is done at Sunset and Irving and the dip down towards the sea was smooth sailing with very little traffic in sight.

I felt like I was flying.

My body seems to be getting adjusted to the work, which is harder than the work I had previous, the boys are bigger, and older than the previous little guys I was working with and the picking up and carrying around is making some inroads on my muscles.

The bicycle commute is getting easier too and I realized when I was stopped at a traffic light that I had not thought once about my ankle the entire day.

It seems I am having some acclimation.

Which I knew I would, but until it actually happens, is hard to fathom.

The job is going smooth and I am also starting to find a routine for myself and I have started setting little systems into place to help me stay on top of the ever mounting pile of boy stuff that needs handling every day.

They are such boys.

Rocks.

Dirt.

Sand.

Balls.

More rocks.

Bugs.

One of the boys actually discovered a chrysalis in the park and the butterfly just emerging on the leaf and drying its wings.

We were able to pick it up, careful to not touch the wings themselves, and watch it slowly open and close the wings until it was dry enough to fly.

Aside from the littlest guy when he naps, it was the stillest I have seen the boys.

They are in constant motion.

I can see why the other nanny didn’t want to work more than 40 hours a week, it’s exhausting keeping up with them.

And she’s 29.

I’m 41.

But, I have to say, I’m holding my own and enjoying my time with the family.

They are smart, capable, sweet people, who are really involved with their lives and their children are a reflection of that.

I feel super lucky to have gotten the job and when the mom apologized for the melee of yesterday evening with the double play date, I felt like hugging her, it’s nice to be acknowledged for my efforts and I am being seen for what I do.

I am being seen everywhere by people I have no clue who they are, but they notice too.

I have had a number of moms come up to me and say hello, recognizing either myself or the boys.

So many, in fact, that I am losing track of who I have met and which kids belong to whom.

But, I like that too, there’s a definite community of families in the neighborhood and I like that I am a part of that community.

It certainly makes me cheerful to engage with the people.

I never had that while I was nannying in Cole Valley.

I am not sure why exactly that is, but in the Mission I feel really connected to the neighborhood and the folks around the block where the boys live.

It has a definite neighborhood vibe to it.

Oh.

There’s the hustle and bustle of the Mission as well, and drug users, and derelicts, and pot heads, and homeless, but for what ever reason, not so much on the block they live on, it’s just enough removed from the ruckus that can get ahold of the Mission at times and make it a little rough and tumble around the edges.

All in all.

The job is working out.

I am grateful.

I am also grateful for the little epiphany I had this morning when I was doing my morning routine.

I have been reflecting on finances and financial aid and applying for it and what am I going to do as I don’t have a full year’s income on the books and I realized.

Oh.

I could file my taxes and include the income that I made off the books.

Yes.

I will probably owe money for taxes, but fingers crossed, I’ll have enough taken out for having claimed zero, to cover some of that.

I have records of what I spent and took in for every month in the year and I have saved all my receipts, and I have all my expenses noted that are in conjunction with work.

I know how much I made and I can declare it.

I guess that means I am really serious about going to graduate school.

I want to have a clean tax return to reflect honestly how much money I made, am making for this fiscal year, and to do the right thing and file a proper return.

I want to be able to apply for financial aid.

I won’t be able to do graduate school without taking on financial aid.

But I won’t be able to go forward trying to get in without being honest about my money.

It was revelatory.

Simple.

Honest.

Clean.

I laughed out loud when I realized that the one thing in my head that has been nagging at me was that I wasn’t planning on filing taxes properly for this year, how was I going to pull it over FAFSA’s head and get away with claiming less than I made so that I could get a larger loan package.

How about I just file properly and let what ever happens with financial aid happen.

If I don’t get aid.

Well.

I don’t go.

But if I don’t get aid because I was dishonest about my tax filing, then I am an asshole.

I don’t need to sabotage myself.

Honesty.

Today’s principle.

I still don’t want to claim my income, but that’s not going to stop me from actually doing the work.

When I know the work needs to be done, I can feel it in my gut and I am glad for it.

And things move forward.

And change happens.

Look ma!

I’m changing.

For the better, I might add.

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