Date Night!

by

I jest.

Work night is more like it.

Being tired night can be included in that.

Why am I at work night should be the title to this blog.

Because that’s where I am.

Le sigh.

It does not happen often that I am here on the weekend and it will not happen again this semester.

I feel a little bit broken.

I realized, on Sunday, as I was sitting in my last class of the day that I had unconsciously, oh what would Freud say about that, sabotaged myself into working thirteen days in a row with one day off and then another five days of work before I had my two day weekend.

Ugh.

Carmen.

I met with my person today.

And no!

Fuck.

We did not finish my inventory.

The lady is having me go deep.

DEEP.

It’s been a little painful, plus I’m sick, let’s just not beat around the bush, I haven’t been running at full speed, it’s not debilitating but it certainly feels vulnerable when I am sick and it’s usually when I am better that I realize how sick I have been.

Or when someone points it out right in front of you.

“Oh, you’re sick,” she said, “ok, we’re going to go easy.”

And did we go easy?

Nope.

But.

Ah.

I got some stuff out.

All the stuff that just does not serve and she promised we would finish next week and I believe her.

But when she asked about today and the working, then added: “how do you feel about that?”

I burst into tears.

Um.

I didn’t see that coming.

And that indicates to me that I am sicker than I am letting on.

So this has been a very take it easy sort of day.

I left the scooter at home, took a car to Tart to Tart, then another to the Mission after doing the deal for awhile.

I also got a manicure and a pedicure and chatted with a girl friend I’d lost a little touch with since she’s moved to the East Bay.

“It’s so affordable over here!” She told me.

Yeah.

I hear that.

I’m pretty damn lucky to still be here.

My driver today asked how long I’ve lived in San Francisco and I’m coming up on fourteen years!

It’s a pretty great run.

I found myself a little overwhelmed though, in the Mission.

It’s changed a lot and I know that and I am here all the time and I work here and I commute here and yet, wow, I just got such an eye full and ear full and the bustle and the weird, well, to me, it’s weird, tourists and gawkers and destination people and the conversations and the money.

Whoa.

There is some money on parade here.

Especially on the weekends.

I mean.

I know that I am in it consistently, but I’m here when the work week is happening and I don’t interact with the community the same way.

Hell.

Who am I kidding.

It was not community that I was interacting with today.

Not that I had much interaction, it was mostly observation.

I am pretty happy that I am not living down in this area anymore, despite occasional longings for a shorter commute to and from work and school.

I never thought I would say that.

I always thought I would wind up in a house in the Mission.

Perhaps not.

Of course, there is plenty here that is still good and awesome.

I was just a bit overwhelmed with it and remembered with a lot of nostalgia what it was like the first few times I hung out here and ate here and went to bars and night clubs and danced and shot pool and played poker in the back room at Dalva.

Long soaks in the hot tub at Osento.

I still, once in a while, think, oh, I should go to Osento then realize it’s been closed for years.

Things change.

And that’s ok.

I don’t have to bemoan it or belittle it either.

It was nice to go to dinner with my boys and we went to Tacolicious and were waited on hand and foot and it would have perhaps mortified me to be there in another lifetime, but in this one I was being paid to eat out with the two most handsome little guys ever.

And.

When I was with the boys, I didn’t notice the hoi poi and the hulllabaloo and the commerce and the scene and be seen.

I just enjoyed walking along a street, Valencia, that I have walked down many, many, many times before, remember New College?

Remember when Ritual opened?

I do, I was there day one, third latte of the day.  Same for Four Barrel, before they were open, grabbing coffees from the back of the store where the roasters were.

Remember the KFC!

A street where I have played and worked and sat in cafes.

A street I have written blogs on, poetry on, had sex on, well not on the street itself and now that I think about it, ha!  No.  I have hooked up on Valencia.

Heh.

Anyway.

I digress and yes, this lady is a little tired.

So.

Movie night the rest of the night and some hot tea and just sitting back until the parents get home.

Then a ride out to my home, my sweet, quiet, laid back, sleepy little studio.

Down by the sea.

But still, yes, still.

In San Francisco.

Where my heart lives.

Where I wear my flowers in my hair.

Where else, would I be?

Well.

Burning Man.

But that’s another blog.

 

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