Hello Friday


Is it Monday already?

I have a lot to do this weekend.

And.

That is lovely and as it should be.

But.

Sometimes it already feels like Monday is here and I haven’t gotten to have any weekend because it is so jammed and packed and full.

I will give myself time tomorrow though.

I have it scheduled.

Sometimes that it what I have to do.

I also have lots of people I am scheduled to meet and be with.

Also as it should be.

People I haven’t seen in a while and some I have seen more recently.

One lady who cancelled tonight, though, gave me a modicum of movement in my schedule and I found myself getting out to a spot that is a familiar and safe place for me, where, like the anti-Cheers, everybody knows my name.

“You have a following,” he told me at Burning Man while we were sitting with another friend at First Camp chilling and gossiping and smack talking.

I was giving him a hand massage.

I was astonished to hear him say that.

I do not.

I protested.

But I have been around awhile and I know a lot of folks.

I run into people all the time and it’s really nice and it helps keep me sane.

Hell, I even ran into some one last night at the Franz Ferdinand show in Oakland.

I was sitting on a flight of stairs catching up with ma poulette from my school cohort.

Look ma!

I’m making friends at school.

Which is really nice.

I wish I had more time for friends at school, like hanging outside of school, but I don’t and making the time to go to the show last night in Oakland, a train ride, after work, a longer show than I was expecting, a long delay in the BART station, not having a ride waiting like I was expecting, Uber not navigating to me in a timely manner, the driver called three times to verify where I was.

Seriously?

I said the last time when he called, “I am in the exact same spot, exact same spot, and I am at Second and Market.  I am literally standing underneath the sign that says “SECOND” street.”

He found me.

But man it took awhile.

I got in late.

I had a cup of tea, I unwound, I posted up the blog from the day before yesterday that I wasn’t able to get to yesterday morning.

There was something wrong with the server and I couldn’t access the blog at all for a day.

It was frustrating.

I couldn’t tell if it was the website itself, WordPress, or if it was my network, because I couldn’t get on Facebook either.

Not that I needed to be on Facecrack, but that I always Twitter my post and my Twitter is linked to Facebook.

If I can’t access my blog sometimes I have actually gone into it the back door via the link on Facebook and made edits to posts there.  It’s a bit of a hassle, but it works.

No such luck the other night.

It happens more frequently than I would like and a few times I have been concerned about getting access to syllabi and my school e-mails, etc, but usually I can recognize that as needless anxiety.

“What if I can’t send my Dubitzky paper on Sunday!”  My brain roared at me when I was trying to get my blog online.

Hey brain.

CALM THE FUCK DOWN.

First off all, you have to write the paper.

That paper and a Therapeutic Communications paper and a lot of reading, but don’t worry, I’ll get it done.

Or I won’t.

But being in anxiety about whether or not the internet will be online before I have even written the paper to send it in is just useless masturbatory fear brain reminding me that I have a disease, it resides in my brain, and my thinking is not always so even keel.

Besides.

Should I ever really need to get online and it’s not working here at the house, I just stroll down the street a couple of blocks and use the internet at Java Beach Cafe.

It’s open late and I have done work there before.

So.

Nothing to be anxious about.

Oh.

I know.

There is always something that will try to take me out of the moment, like jumping ahead to it’s already Monday and where did the weekend go?

I, ironically, am actually getting up earlier on my day off than I did today for work.

Granted.

My job didn’t start until 1 p.m.

I worked until 8 p.m.

Actually I got done a tiny bit before that which was awesome, as I got to hop on my bike and make it to Our Lady of SafeWay right at 8pm.

I saw my peeps.

I got right with God.

And that is also why I’ll be up early tomorrow.

A shower.

My morning routine.

That thing at the place over there.

Then a meeting with my person at Tart To Tart.

And another meeting with another woman.

And maybe lunch and nails.

And then back here for a phone check in.

Then.

I am taking the night.

Some time down by the beach.

A nice meal.

Some reconnecting.

The lady I am supposed to see at noon on Sunday cancelled, so I could even sleep in on Sunday.

Though it’s doubtful I will.

I will get up.

Make coffee.

Smile in gratitude at my life.

Sit down at this very table.

Write.

Do the deal.

And meet with someone else.

There is always some one to meet with and another chapter to write and to read.

There is always another story to tell.

I like to tell stories.

You might have noticed that.

In fact.

Hmm.

I might just go work on a story now.

My ten sonnets.

(I am finished writing them, they now need to be polished like pretty little glowing moonstones)

I want to have them wrapped up and done before I launch into my Dubitzy Psychoanalytic paper on Freud.

I am feeling inspired.

Listening to The Orb–Moon Building 2703 has set the tone.

Time to get poetic up in here.

Excuse me.

I have to go get my sonnet on.

Yeah.

I know.

Whatevs.

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