Posts Tagged ‘acting as if’

Work, Work, Work

February 20, 2015

Work it out.

And I’m not talking about work.

Although it’s been a hell of a week at work.

Ski week.

Ayup.

Private schools in San Francisco have what’s commonly called ski week–Tahoe anyone?

My boys don’t ski, although the family does take a week in the summer to go to Tahoe.

Nope.

My boys have been with me all week, keeping me busy.

I thought to myself tonight that perhaps I should not schedule any more dates after I am done with work.

That I should go on dates when I have a chance to be fresh and relaxed and mellow and can show up with some sparkle.

I have another first date tomorrow and I am trying  to figure out the cute for date and works for work outfit.

You know, a day to-night sort of deal.

I’m not horribly concerned, my date will be arriving via bicycle, as will I.

My date and I will both be coming from work.

And that’s the work I am thinking about, the work of giving myself time to date and to be available.

It is really easy for me to book myself in.

For instance, I have nothing.

And I mean nothing (ok, well, a commitment Saturday night, but other than that) happening on Saturday.

I really want to schedule some stuff in that time.

I was hoping for another date, either another first date with someone or a second date with someone.

Or.

I don’t know.

Something.

As my week is ending and my weekend fast approaches, I feel compelled to have it all figured out.

More work than I need to give myself.

The illusion of control.

If I know what’s happening, I can control the outcome and manipulate my situation to my best advantage.

Or so my brain tells me.

Shut up brain.

A little free time is good.

Who knows what may happen.

I did think tonight, when I was riding my bike home from my Thursday night commitment, that it would be so nice if the guy I’m going out with tomorrow hit it off and I don’t have to think about asking anyone else out.

I’m a bit tired of it.

I haven’t asked anyone out all this week.

I realized I was coasting along on the fact that I asked out 8 guys last week.

And scheduled two dates for this week.

After tomorrow’s date there is nothing lined up and oh no.

I mean, really, in the scheme of it all, no big shakes, but I feel that I want to keep the momentum going.

It’s just.

Well, it’s a lot of work.

I know that it will pay off.

I just don’t know when and sometimes a girl gets tired doing all the asking.

Hey you.

Yeah you!

You want to ask me out?

Do it.

I mean, I have fucking blinders on anyway, half the time I have no idea if you like me or not anyway, so if you’ve been waiting around wondering if you’re on the list, just cut to the chase and ask.

Because I’m in no place to say no.

I’m throwing it all at the wall.

I’m not desperate.

Really.

I just realized that I like being in a relationship.

I do.

I make a pretty good girl friend.

Even though I wasn’t the right girl friend for the last guy.

And I like the company.

And you know, sex is nice, and kissing, and uh, stuff.

Ha.

Oh.

Fuck me.

I think what happens for me is that at some point or another I try to find the magic bullet.

That thing that is going to work, that combination of asking out, following suggestions, doing the online dating world, Facecrack messaging, etc, that I will figure it out.

And poof!

Boyfriend.

I mean, it’s no different from any other time I have tried to put myself out there as sexy, single, available for dating, smart, fun, great in bed.

Fuck.

My blog is now an over stated want ad for a partner.

Heh.

I’m happy to say I have some humor around this and also, that I am willing to try to change and do different things.

I don’t think I will ever figure it out, dating, life, love, friends, family, recovery, any of it.

Really, it’s all a lot of work and I just have to do it.

The good things, they take effort.

I mean I didn’t lose all that weight by wishing on a star.

I radically changed my diet and lifestyle.

No sugar.

No flour.

No fried foods.

Organic foods.

Bicycling four to six days a week.

Yeah.

That was not a magic pill.

That was some hard fucking work.

And it’s paid off.

So, I’m going to have to do some more work with dating.

And then with school.

Woohoo.

I am still a little in shock that the day has been set for the interview.

A week from today.

I cleared it with work and I will go in for a half day, leaving at 2 p.m. to make sure I get there on time and have a few minutes to sit still, breathe, say a prayer in a bathroom stall, re-apply my lipstick, and nail the interview.

I know I can do it.

Why?

Because I don’t shirk at doing the work.

I’m not about to change that now.

So when a wave of fatigue washes over me, I can surrender to it, and know that this too shall pass, that I am just here playing the role assigned and that God really does want me to be with one fine man.

Seeing as how I am one fine woman.

I will show up tomorrow at work and do my job.

Then I will show up for my life and do the work that leads to the relationship.

It doesn’t have to be with this man or the man I dated last night or the one I haven’t asked out yet, but I will.

I don’t have to know.

I just have to do.

Thinking about it is not the solution.

Acting is.

Here’s to doing the work.

It’s worth it.

I am worth it.

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Just Say Yes

October 21, 2014

Do something different.

Ugh.

But I don’t want to, I’ll be tired, it’s the end of my work week, it’s in a weird location, I don’t have the energy, I don’t want to ride my bicycle home that late at night.

Blah, blah, blah, Ginger, blah, blah, blah.

Wow.

Does my head have a great capacity to conjure up reasons to isolate and stay single.

I have a date Friday night and he’s come up with a fun thing to do, I didn’t have to figure it out, and my firs thought was I don’t want to.

I’ll be tired, etc, etc, etc.

I thought to myself as I was reading the text message, “you’re tired now, does not mean that you will be tired then.”

I cannot make decisions based on how I think I am going to feel four days from now.

Just say yes.

Or at least pause before responding.

Give it a minute.

I was tired when I got the message about the date, let’s go to the Grand Guignol.

The huh?

Oh.

Theater.

Nice.

And spooky theater at that.

Cool.

I was in the midst of dealing with after dinner, after swim class, in the bath tub, tooth brushing, bubbles and soap and cups and washing and two little monkeys when the message came in.

I am exhausted because it’s Monday.

Monday is not only my longest day at work, it’s also my earliest start time.

I was up this morning at 6:30 a.m. to get ready for work and be on time and do all the things.

Including taking a few minutes to sing happy birthday to my little sister who turned 40 today.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

She answered and I got the honor of singing it live to her instead of leaving it on a voice mail.

I also got to explain that the gift I got for her ten days ago has not shipped yet because there was a problem at the gallery with the printing.  I got her something from an arts collective in Oakland and I got a message from the studio that the screen printing was behind and they hadn’t processed the order yet.

I got the e-mail on Friday.

Damn it man.

I had ordered it early enough so that it would get there on time.

But it’s a small arts collective and I really like there stuff and so, I said, hey cool, please send a note with it explaining what happened and please pay for the expedited shipping when it is done.

She’ll get it next week.

At least I know she got the card I sent.

I love sending cards and gifts, there’s just something about it that has always made me feel good.  I like buying people presents and I have to say, I’m pretty good at it.  I pay attention to what folks like and I believe that I often hit the nail on the head with what I get.

I also like supporting local arts and creatives in and around the Bay.

I get a lot of my stuff from here and it feels, to me anyway, even more special if it’s coming from San Francisco.

My mom has a knee surgery coming up, two days before her birthday, and I want to send her some local coffee and some treats from Tartine, since she still talks about when I took her to Philz and Phil himself made her coffee and later that same visit, I took her to Tartine.

Most of the stuff at Tartine I can’t ship to her, but I figure I can send her a bag of Philz Tesora and maybe a package of cookies from Tartine.

I haven’t set foot in that shop in years.

Not really anything in there for me to eat.

Although I do always enjoy walking by and smelling the smells, they are awful good smells.

I’m pretty psyched to also be in the Mission for work as it will lend nicely to buying Christmas presents for folks.

I won’t get too crazy, my sister, my mom, maybe a little something for my youngest niece.

If I go back to Wisconsin to visit my best friend and her brood, or skulk I should say, I will also stick a couple of things in my carry on.

Anyway.

That’s getting ahead of myself.

And I realized that I was doing the same thing with my initial resistance to the date idea.

Pause.

Respond.

Don’t react.

So I waited to respond to the message and after work I got on my bicycle and I jammed over to 7th and Irving and I caught up with some folks who I have been missing this past month with the new job.

“Are you going to be coming back,” he said giving me a huge hug, “we really miss your energy here.”

I am going to try.

I felt so much better after sitting sandwiched in between two dear friends that I knew my answer to the date question was going to be yes.

Yes, let’s go.

It sounds like fun.

I still had a minute or two of trying to figure it out, I’ll be coming from work, I’ll be this, I’ll be that, I don’t want to ride my bike home from the SOMA that late at night on a Friday.

Blah, blah, blah.

Then I realized.

Hey!

I don’t have to ride my bike home.

I can ride my scooter.

I can ask the mom tomorrow if I can park the scooter in the garage on Friday (I can’t do street parking, it’s only two hour parking and I don’t have a nanny permit for the neighborhood).

Then I can just scooter home after the play and not worry about biking.

Tada!

Solution.

And it had nothing to do with the “problem.”

See, I am the problem and I am realizing that more and more as I feel myself balking at certain aspects of this dating thing.

I am the reason I am single.

So I am the one who has to change.

And I know that initially there’s going to be some resistance.

I just have to walk through it, trust and say yes.

Yes.

Let’s go to the theater on Friday.

I mean, really, when was the last time I went to the theater anyway?

Here’s to changing.

Here’s to dating.

Here’s to saying yes.

Yes, thank you.

I’ll have another.

Ice, Ice Baby

July 29, 2014

And not the diamonds.

No.

Just the ice.

Actually, let me upgrade.

Ice, ice, peas.

Peas.

Tanks.

Fuck me man.

I am over this.

I am over it and than some.

I am just tired, is what it is.  Worn out.  Sacked out.  Beat down.

And it’s just Monday.

Eek.

I will get through, I am sure I will, but I was tired so quickly today and my ankle was much sorer than I thought it would be, is that grammatically correct, sorer?

What ever it is, it, said ankle was really tender today and all the muscles around it were in protest too, like hey, ankle, snap out of it, we be tired of carrying the brunt of the weight, get on some support.

By the end of the day I just felt like it had all been sucked right out.

And it was a lovely day with the boys, they were sweet as pie, it was great to see them, they were super lovey and I got lots of hugs and even a little down time with naps.

Not as much as I could have used, but I snatched thirty minutes of down time with a moment to put up the foot and chill.

I began to wonder if I was coming down with something, my energy just way low.

And a friend shared his experience around a broken leg and it was an aha moment for me.

He said that it was almost harder when it started to heal because he realized how weak he had become.

That is what I feel like, weak.

And I have felt weak and vulnerable for weeks now, and it just makes me tired.  I have been showing up for work and showing up for commitments and trying to go, go, go, and not like my normal pace, but just a little bit, and I can’t seem to muster it.

I know this will pass and in that there is the relief.

Today just felt interminable.

But it is a feeling and they pass, just like the days pass, time passes, the world moves on and before I can blink I will be onto something else, some other adventure to ruminate on, some other part of myself or my body or being to “improve” something to learn and grow around.

Part of the exhaustion, I must admit, seemed mental too.

I have been thinking about a story piece and working on it and the performance is tomorrow and I just could not wrap my head around practicing more for it, writing more on it, then going and doing it tomorrow after I got done with work, commuting on more public transportation down to the Mission/SOMA border, being there, then commuting back to the beach.

I really wanted to cry when I thought about it.

I had the piece on my mind all day long and wrote and rewrote it in my head and thought about re-visiting old blogs to get inspiration and it all just seemed like too much work.

I might be trying to go to fast here, the intuitive thought, perhaps next month, perhaps not tomorrow.

And.

Maybe just pause and wait until tomorrow and see how you feel.

Maybe I will feel amazing and excited and want to go perform and even if it’s just to be bad, since I have not had a lot of practice telling it, just mostly the writing of it, because bad is better than not at all.

I kept admonishing myself, just show up, that’s half the battle.

That’s where most of the work is for me.

Just showing up.

Sitting down in front of my laptop and opening up the blog page and just letting the words roll down the page like alphabet rain.

I know that part of this too is that I don’t want to disappoint someone who has made the suggestion to me to go and have this experience.  I take all her suggestions, or almost all, I am realizing, if there’s one or two I haven’t taken it’s rare.

This would be me not taking the suggestion, show up and be horrible and have fun with it.

I took the other suggestions she gave me over the weekend about getting a little notebook to jot down creative ideas, I usually carry something with me anyhow, but I picked up a special little guy just for more writing down of the stuffs.

I like the idea of being bad, well, sort of, I really want to show up and be perfect, but I know that’s not possible and the stress of being perfect is not worth the effort, I am too tired for it.

I like the idea of being of service.

“That’s what creatives are, they are being of service by putting their art into the world,” she told me Saturday.  “You are of service to the audience, it’s not about you.  What can you bring to the performance?”

My tired ass self.

I did give her a call today after I got done with work and just expressed how I was struggling with it, not so much the writing, I got that down, at least the bones and musculature, it needs a little fleshing out, but I could extemporarize it quite well, I believe; but the idea of just getting there.

That’s what was exhausting.

And it made me long for my bicycle and that bums me out, not being on my bike, really just bums me the fuck out.

I miss it so bad.

I miss the feeling of being free on the road and the wind on my face and my legs moving underneath me without pain, just moving, like pistons, clocking the distance down Lincoln or through the park.

Exercise is important to me too because it helps stave off that low-level depression that can sneak up on me when I am not as active and that could be some of this too, tiny bit of depression, woven in with a smidgen of self-pity, some physical discomfort and pain, and voila.

Perfect cocktail of “tired the fuck out.”

I will wait for tomorrow to make my final verdict.

Tomorrow is another day.

Tonight is for tea and rest.

And iced peas.


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