It’s Late


And tomorrow is Monday.

An early start.

A long day.

But.

I can’t not write.

I feel a little too jazzed up anyway, I need to unwind, to settle back down in my bones, to come back to earth, to be in my space, light some candles, make some tea and have a nice moment in my studio to relax, reflect, rejoice.

I made it through the three-day school weekend!

Hooray.

So nice.

I have one more weekend of school before the semester ends.

I have plenty, and I do mean, plenty to do in the mean time between then and now.

I will have two papers to write and loads to read.

One Child Therapy presentation.

And then.

Christmas, or as they call it now, winter break.

I will be taking some time off this week to go to my friend’s in Nevada and I may just let myself not take any homework with me.

May.

I haven’t decided yet.

I don’t have to.

I do need to make it through the next few days of work though.

Tomorrow will be a 9.5 hour day.

And as I mentioned, an early start.

I go in at 8 a.m. on Mondays.

Which means I’ll be up by 6 a.m.

Sigh.

Oh well.

There are worse things.

Although I am a little concerned that it might be a stay home day for both the boys.

My Monday could be three kids instead of the one baby I typically have all day on Mondays.

It could very well be full tilt boogie.

I don’t have to figure it out now, it’s been a full day.

A full weekend.

And I am so very grateful I got through the day and the classes and had some really lovely interactions with my cohort, I am so glad for them, so many wonderful friends I never would have made without having done this program.

Amazing, unsuspected resources of friendship.

Such gifts.

And getting to see my fellows tonight and share my experience, strength, and hope, and be in a beautiful venue.

It was out at the Palace of Fine Arts.

It was gorgeous.

I took a walk around the lake and looked at the stars.

I went under the dome.

I walked around the columns and I was just happy, calm, excited to be in the place I am and oh, so very grateful.

Then.

I realized.

Hmmm.

I’m walking around outside by myself.

Maybe go get in there, go talk to people, go connect.

Go let myself be seen.

And I did.

It felt good and I felt connected and that was just what I needed.

I could have hung out longer, but I really knew I had to come back, write my little blog and get myself to bed.

It’s not good when I am up too, to late on the night before my longest work shift of the week.

But that’s what coffee’s for right?

I just noticed a notification from my Psychopathology professor for my last paper, its due Monday, December 19th.

Ugh.

The day after my birthday.

I will not be writing my final paper for this class on my birthday.

I will not.

No thank you.

And the weekend prior is our last weekend of classes, so I won’t be writing it then.

God damn it.

I may be writing a paper much sooner than I thought.

I am not thinking about it tonight.

I am not thinking about it tonight.

I am not thinking about it tonight.

I am thinking that I wore a skirt tonight.

I am thinking that I was pretty tonight.

I was thinking I was going to wear something else, something all dressed to impress, but realized I’d rather be pretty, approachable and sweet.

I dare say my aesthetic is changing a bit.

Which is not a bad thing, just something I have noticed.

The dress I was going to wear, though, is spectacular and I think I will wear it to the wedding I was invited to on Saturday December 10th.

Which happens to be smack dab in the middle of my last weekend of classes, but I will only have to miss 1.5 classes and I talked with both my teachers and cleared it.

I was hoping.

I was.

I will admit it.

That I would have a date for this wedding.

I have been to plenty of weddings solo, there was just something about this one that has made me feel a little bit on the outs as far as relationships go, but I’ll be ok and the dress.

Oh.

It is pretty.

And I have only worn it one other time, so I should absolutely for this wedding.

It’s an A-line skirt which flares out, and has a fitted bodice.

It’s white.

Which, yes, one does not wear to a wedding, I don’t want to ever compete with the bride.

But it has a very bright cobalt blue large flower pattern on it and I’ll be paring with some pretty Mary Jane heels and a cardigan sweater, it will be sweet and pretty.

I have been making an effort, as I have alluded to before, to show up a little less defended, a little softer, a little prettier.

I want to be approached and connected with and I’m not on any online dating sites and I’m not on any phone apps either.

I want real connection.

And I have to do the changes to get there.

Softer and accessible.

Out in the world and of it.

Relating to and connecting to my fellows.

And I don’t have to have a boyfriend, although one sure would be nice, to be completed or to enjoy my life, not at all.

But.

I suspect.

That I will enjoy my life more regardless of outcomes if I continue to connect and let myself be seen.

“You, you are on the scene,” my French friend said, “you have something, it turns on, I have seen it, you have something.”

I have.

I have people who see me and love me.

And for that.

Eternally.

Yes.

Eternally.

Grateful.

I fell so loved when I am seen by you.

Seriously.

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