When It Rains


It pours.

I just was offered another nanny gig.

Thanks.

But no thanks.

I just finished and sent off my corrected contract to my newest set of employers.

Two small minor things that needed changing and I will be ready to sign and go onto the next family that I have been given the gift to get to work for.

I have a gift.

I don’t know exactly how it came to be and I don’t often question it, at least I don’t anymore, and I have had it told to me too many times that I do a great job, an amazing job, that I am good with kids.

Oh.

I have had my moments.

Things happen.

I am not perfect.

But.

I am good.

And it would be false humility to not acknowledge that.

And, well, it’s nice to be wanted.

I realized that today as well.

I am not chasing shit.

I am the ball.

I am not chasing.

Not men.

Not relationships.

Not friendships.

Not jobs.

I am done chasing.

I want to have fun.

I want to live my life.

I have a full, busy, awesome life.

I don’t have time for bullshit.

Fuck.

I frankly don’t have time for dating.

And yet.

Ha.

I have two lined up in the next couple of weeks.

One I will sneak in next Monday night because I can and I know what will happen and we have a good time together and there’s nothing that will come of it except a fun night and some bed head.

Ahem.

Like I said.

I am just having fun.

But I am not chasing the fun.

The fun can just come to me, because otherwise, I don’t have the time for it.

I’m too busy.

I have this last weekend of school to deal with, I have one last paper to write.

The second date I lined up is for dinner at Thai Cottage.

AFTER my last paper is due.

We’ll be going out to dinner the day after my last paper is turned in.

He reached out today and we made it happen.

Both of us have been ridiculously busy, he travels a lot for work and well, fuck, the way that I write, blog, and do recovery, besides work and school, hell, it’s like I have two full-time jobs and two part-time ones.

It’s a fucking wonder I get any sleep.

We’ve gone out twice before, this is the third date.

It’s not going anywhere, he lives out-of-town too far, but hey, some fun will be had and I am just saying yes to what is being presented to me.

Again.

Not chasing.

Keeping focused on what is in front of me and how I can best serve this part of my life.

I miss my friends.

I miss my social life.

I miss going out and doing social type things.

But I have a goal.

I have a trajectory and I am so proud of myself for sticking to it and doing the work.

Fuck.

I do a lot of work.

Today I at work the baby took a long nap and I was able to start the process of writing my final paper for Psychopathology.

I went through all my notes.

I reviewed a bunch of the readings.

I broke out the post-it notes.

I saw the arc of the paper, it’s going to be a doozy.

But.

I know I can write it and I know where I need to go next.

I’m probably going to do an outline of it and organize my notes around that outline, index all my references and sit down with that outline and write from point to point to point.

I think the actual writing is going to take about four, possibly five hours.

Which could potentially be done in one day.

It’s feasible people.

I can write that much in a day, absolutely, fuck I wrote 4,000 + words yesterday, but that paper I wrote was only 7 pages, this one will be 18-20 (that paper was also not 4,000 words, it was closer to 2,000, I was also counting the blog and the morning pages I wrote), but I can write that much in a day when it’s like this blog–stream of conscious.

Fuck.

I could write like this all day long, don’t tempt me.

I probably should try it one day just to see what kind of idiocy climbs out of my brain.

There are so many times that I have no idea what is going to come up in the blog and it really is a fantastic witnessing of how my brain works.

I also know how my brain works best when writing my papers now.

I have to do certain things in a certain way, and my brain is busy cooking on the back burners, even now, as I blog, things are shuffling around back there.

I figured out what the diagnosis was for the client.

Now I have to outline my assessment, what the symptoms are that are being presented, how I came to the decision, what other possible diagnoses it could be, an in-depth psycho-analytic underpinning of how the symptoms are presenting, what’s going on in the mind, basically, the defenses employed, why they are being employed and how, and how that speaks to the clients history, life, and current presentations, and then how would I treat it.

Yeah.

That’s some fucking work.

It shouldn’t actually be hard to come up with the 18-20 pages.

What it is, is a task of organizing and laying out in a neat way all the steps that I took to get where I am going.

I suspect I will learn a lot more about myself and my way of thinking and how I am as a clinician, which is not necessarily my goal, but will be an interesting by-product of the work.

I already have learned more than I think I know just spelling out the paper here.

I have miles to go and I don’t know when I will next get a chance to work on it, it may not happen until after I get through the school weekend and the wedding and the rest of the work week.

But.

It will get done.

And in between here and there.

A little fun.

A few more Christmas cards to write out.

A few more yoga classes to get to.

Life.

Full.

Amazing.

Happening all the time.

Right here.

Right fucking now.

Good times.

 

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