Homework

What homework?

Fuck me.

I am not ready for it yet, but I know I have to get my good girl study habits into action.

Especially since I ran into one of my professors today at my internship.

At least she could sympathize with me about my “plight.”

Full time work, full-time grad school, practicum 10-15 hours a week.

But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t expect my paper to not be on time.

I got a message from her about it and also, thank God, a question from one of my fellows in the cohort asking about a test that I had not registered in my brain that um, I have to take tomorrow.

FUCK.

Doesn’t my school know I have a life?

I mean.

Seriously.

Ugh.

And I do have a plan, of course I do and I will get my homework done and I’m not so worried about it.

I always get it done and I am very aware of how efficiently I am able to read and write.

Thank God, again and again and again, for my daily writing practice.

I have two papers to write tomorrow and the test to take for my CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy) class.

Plus.

A fuck ton of reading.

I had thought I might get to some of my reading today, but between just some general housekeeping that I really needed to do, laundry and letting myself take it relatively easy this morning, relatively is a relative statement, I did a 80 minute yoga class, took a shower, made breakfast, wrote for thirty minutes, put fresh sheets on the bed, did two loads of laundry, took out trash and recycling, e-mailed clients, paid bills, juggled schedules, I didn’t have quite as much time this morning to attend to reading and I didn’t really want to push it.

I threw my reading in my bag along with lunch and hit up my internship.

Two hours of group supervision and then a couples consult and then I had nothing left in me.

I didn’t want to do homework, I just wanted to get the fuck out of Dodge.

I thought I might have stayed an hour or so at my office and just knock out some reading, but I decided that what I really needed was a little personal down time and I went and got a manicure.

It was perfect.

A phone call with my best friend.

A flip through a trashy magazine.

And some electric blue fingernails.

And well.

Now.

Now I feel ready to tackle the homework.

But.

Not tonight.

Nope.

I am going to continue to let myself enjoy my evening and have a relaxing night.

No homework, no anxiety.

A little care taking of me.

A little slowing down.

I have plenty to do tomorrow.

It’s true.

I’ll go to yoga and do breakfast and write here at the house.

I have a lady coming over at 1pm to do some work and doing of the deal.

Then a coffee date with a friend.

Then the homework.

And I bet I will get my CBT homework done between my breakfast and meeting with my first person at 1 p.m.

I also have to do a little grocery shopping and I will need to do food prep.

I am also banking on having some extra time at work to do the reading that I need to do.

The mom is out-of-town with the baby, I won’t have my normal morning routine with my youngest charge.

Oh.

There will still be plenty to do and in some instances some extra work, but I won’t have active charges until 2:15p.m. every day.

I’ll be at the house and make wicked fast work of whatever household things I need to deal with and then give myself at least an hour if not two of reading.

I’ll get it done.

I always do.

I know how full my life can get and it may seem untenable and challenging and too much, but it won’t be like this always.

And I have winnowed out some things, for instance I was unregistered over the weekend for the ALC ride, my bicycle rep still tried to talk me into doing it, but I gracefully turned it down and that’s one less thing on my plate.

I am going to acknowledge that yes, my calendar is still hella full, but I know time will coalesce and things will happen that allow me to have fun and not take myself or my situation so damn serious.

A client will cancel, I’ll get out of work early, some circumstance will arise and I will have a surprise gift of time.

It always happens.

I’m super grateful for that too.

I’ll get through this year.

I’ll get my Masters degree.

I’ve always wanted one.

I’ll have achieved one more step toward my career goal.

I don’t have to do it all tomorrow.

Or tonight for that matter.

I did enough today.

I am enough.

I am lovable and worthy of love.

I affirm myself.

I am capable and strong and I have such lovely people in my life.

I do.

I do.

I am blessed beyond words.

So very blessed.

 

Hello Monday

Let’s be friends.

It started out well.

I woke up and went back to sleep.

That helps.

Sometimes I wake up and I am awake, I can’t go back to sleep, the brain is too busy, the mind has had an espresso without telling me and has finished the New York Times crossword puzzle in black ink and is impatient for me to see its plans.

Today.

I woke up a half hour before my alarm and said, no, rest, let your body rest.

I was planning on going to yoga anyhow and my body does need some rest.

I can feel that I have gotten a lot already, so much really, from the practice that I could get compulsive about it, but I don’t want to be unbalanced.

That being said, yes, I did go today.

I won’t be going tomorrow and it’s unlikely that I will on Wednesday either, those are my two days that are challenging.

Thursday I will and then Friday, Saturday, Sunday, I’m in school.

Yup.

It’s my third weekend back.

Which is also why I won’t be going to yoga tomorrow morning before work, I need to finish up my reading and also proofing my papers and making sure they are formatted correctly.

One of my cohort got a hold of me and also mentioned that I better re-check the paper parameters for one of our classes.

And fuck.

She was right.

The format for the paper was different than I had written.

Ie, I hadn’t used the correct spacing for the paragraphs.

Re-adjusted it before heading out to work today.

I had enough time after yoga to hop into the shower, pop into some cute clothes, make up my face, fix the hair, not that it really was going to be performing after getting scrunched under my helmet–yay for a break in the rain!  I was able to take my scooter in to work today.

It doesn’t look good for the rest of the week.

Not at all.

I will most likely be taking cars, I’m not interested in riding my bicycle or my scooter in the kind of rain that has been dumping down.

I would be wet most the day and also, it’s just dangerous when it gets too blustery.

I’d rather be alive with a few less dollars in my pocket.

It will rather blow having to take a car into school, it’s so much nicer when I can scooter in, but again, it’s the showing up that’s the most important.

Just keep showing up.

To the yoga mat.

To the notebook.

To the text book.

To do the deal.

It was great to see my fellows tonight and have a chat with a few friends and re-connect.

Really grateful for connection, and commitments, for contact with people I care about and love.

I get to see one of my people tomorrow and that is always such a good feeling, a little sitting down in a cafe doing the deal and getting down to brass tacks.

Getting perspective.

I actually had a lot of perspective just from going to yoga class.

Seeing how much better I have gotten in just ten classes is pretty amazing.

I’ve gotten my new mat too, super non-slip grip and nice and thick.

It’s amazing.

My feet stick like glue to it, well, not always, I do wobble a lot still in certain poses, but again, today, I stuck a pose that I have not been able to do yet–side plank with one arm down and one arm up in the air.

Holy shit.

That’s a work out.

We did a lot of core work today and as per my body’s demands, I ate a lot of kale salad today.

However.

I think I may have kale’d myself out for a little while.

I got through half of my dinner salad and I wasn’t feeling it anymore.

I wrapped it up and figured I’d nibble on it tomorrow for lunch.

Like the good little bunny I am.

Have you seen me eat carrots?

Please.

And folks wonder why I have bunnies all over the place.

Symbolic rabbit meanings deal primarily with abundance, comfort, and vulnerability. Traditionally, rabbits are associated with fertility, sentiment, desire, and procreation.

Hmm.

Sounds about right.

Thanks interwebs.

Although I’m not procreating at the moment, heh.

I have been writing affirmations about sex and making out.

I am single, sexy, and available to date the man God wants me to date.

I am having amazing sex and make out.

Um.

Ha.

I think I’ve actually been writing: I am having mind blowing sex and amazing make out sessions.

That’s the full affirmation.

Every body deserves that, right?

And after all the wonderful stuff with Burning Man unfolding for me, yes, completely confirmed, time off, I’m going, I’m going, I’m going, ten in a row!

I figured.

Come on.

I stopped trying to write affirmations about the one or marriage or my beloved, I’m like, let’s get down to brass tacks.

Let’s go out.

Hey, do you want to go out?

Hey, do you want to burn?

Hey, do you want to dance?

Seize the mysteries.

Hold them in your hands.

Yes.

Exactly.

I won’t spend my whole day stuck trying to figure anything out, but I’m just saying, I’m open, I’m available, I’m going to keep trying, working at it, taking care of myself, focusing on the good stuff right in front of me.

The flowers I bought on Sunday opening.

The new yoga mat and my new practice.

The music on my stereo, the sweet apples in a blue pottery bowl on my counter.

Going to Burning Man.

Going to graduate school.

Loving my little charges and their sweet faces.

Getting kisses from the pup at work.

Hugs from friends.

Life.

You know.

It’s dreamy and delicious and it’s only Monday.

What wonders will the week bring?

I suspect fabulousness and magic.

Well.

Ha.

I know that I will get that since I’m having dinner with my Puerto Rican fairy godfather on Sunday after I get out of school.

But.

I suspect that there is greatness a foot.

I have a vast warm light feeling in my heart.

The days may be grey, there may be rain.

But there is sunshine in my soul, buttercream and daffodils.

It’s Spring!

Baby.

Magic and mysterious and momentous.

Mythic.

I  feel it.

I really do.

 

 

 

Just Another Day

Just another blog.

And I also tried what I preached last night and started a poem today.

I did not quite get as far as I wanted.

I did not finish the sonnet.

But I wasn’t even going to write one this morning, then I thought, why wait until I have to?

Just get going.

I will have to open up that syllabus soon, in fact, all of my syllabi need to be looked at.

It’s three days after my first weekend of classes and it’s time to get started back in on the reading and the paper writing.

Because, yes, I do have papers to write.

That’s a big part of my program and I just need to, er, let me rephrase that, I get to, do the work.

It’s pretty amazing when I think about it.

I am in graduate school, I work close to full time, I am in involved with my community, I am living a full, well rounded, meaningful life.

Today there was nothing wrong.

So much nothing wrong that I thought at one point, something’s up.

But that’s just silly.

What’s up is serenity and balance and feeling like I am in a comfortable groove with life in general.

I don’t have any drama, although my head can manufacture some I am sure, I am doing well at work, I worked extra this week and I will work extra next week, little extra cash for my upcoming hair geographic.

Looking forward to that, even though it is with some nervousness, it’s mostly excitement.

I ran into a litter mate of mine, totally unexpected, in fact, I just realized the last time I saw her I had just turned ten.

Really good to catch up.

Another friend on the East Coast also just hit eleven.

It’s really astounding and I am constantly, perpetually grateful.

I got a message from my friend who I used to live in Paris with wishing me a happy anniversary and another message from a student in my cohort thanking me for my experience and light and color and presence in the classes.

Both unexpected and lovely messages.

I am seen.

I am.

It’s nice to be seen.

I forget that sometimes.

I was crossing the street today on my way to grab my bike from the shop on a brief break at work and someone going through the intersection hollered out my name.

I have no idea who it was, but it felt nice to be called out to.

I love that I am a part of the cityscape.

It’s lovely to be involved in so many diverse communities.

School, work, recovery.

Burning Man.

A friend asked today what my intentions were.

I intend to go.

How?

Who knows.

But it is funny.

I just started writing down what I wanted in regards to the event a couple of days ago.

There are some things in my morning pages that I always write an affirmation for, that I have done so for years and will continue to do so as they are things that I wish to continually have in my life.

Then there are the things that I will write down and they happen, trips, travel, experiences, and so I write something else down in their place and Burning Man is back in the mix.

It replaced the I am going to New York in Spring manifestation.

I am still super stoked about that.

The Guggenheim, the Whitney, the MOMA.

Oh my.

New York in Spring.

I hope it’s warm.

I want to wear sundresses and crinolines and have my hair swept up on my head and walk through the park and walk around Brooklyn and of course, walk through all those lovely museums.

I have a place to stay, I have the plane tickets, I have the time cleared at work.

I can officially take it off my list.

It is not the exact trip I was thinking I would be going on, but that’s ok, I’m going.

The Burning Man event popped up pretty fast in my writing I feel because this year is an anniversary too for me, it will make ten years of going, ten consecutive years.

I can’t not go.

The event this year is August 28th-September 5th.

The dates for my second week long retreat for the second year graduate school program are not up yet, it will happen in August, but I believe it will be similar to the dates this past year and it will occur before the burn.

I should be clear to go.

Granted.

I won’t have it paid time off if I take it, I will have used up my vacation days at work with the second year school retreat and my trip to New York.

No matter.

It somehow worked out last year.

It will work out again this year.

I am willing to work it to get in and I will put out feelers to that end.

But.

It first starts with the affirmation.

The writing.

It starts by putting it out into the Universe what I want.

And what’s always funny, sometimes it is in hindsight, but I can see, quite clearly, how I get what I write for.

Not often how I picture it or without having to do some work.

But it almost always happens.

Put the intention out there and let the Universe come to me.

I realize that I don’t have to struggle to get what I want.

I just really need to show up and be honest about what I want.

To love and be loved.

To be a poet.

To be a therapist.

To see a lot of art.

To stay sober and abstinent.

To be serene, emotionally sober, you could say.

Travel.

Burning Man.

More art.

Let’s put kissing in there soon, but no rush, you know.

I don’t have to get what I want.

God usually gives me better.

I just have to let God know that I want to be happy and I will show up to the necessary work to get there.

Letting go.

Surrendering the results and seeing what shows up.

Burning Man.

It’s early.

But, there you go, you’re on my mind.

Let’s see what we can put together.

Meanwhile.

Back to the books.

And forward into the next phase of my development.

Open to being flexible.

Open to not knowing how it will happen.

Showing up anyway.

And always.

With love.

And So It Goes

I wore the wrong underpants today.

Jesus.

They are cute, not sexy, wearing sexy panties to work is weird when you’re a nanny.

But man, they did not work with the outfit today.

I was wearing my favorite pair of painters bibs and I just picked the wrong pair, I mean truly.

On the bicycle ride home I was almost as fixated with my underwear as I was with my surroundings.  The speed and essence of the bicycle ride was almost negated by the uncomfortable riding.

I couldn’t wait to get home into my yoga pants.

Which caused me to forget my underwear woes and reflect on what an amazing difference a week can make.

Last week this time I was dodging bullets, well, perhaps not bullets, but fireworks, police squad cars, mobs of San Francisco Giants fans, drunks, the random flag waver, cars with howling people shouting, ‘let’s go Giants,’ cars honking, lots of honking cars, and the desire to get home as quickly as possible to change out of my nanny attire into appropriate date attire.

Which did not include said yoga pants.

I mean, I think I look cute in my comfy cozy with my hair done up at the back of my head, but I don’t look like date night.

Last Wednesday was a pretty explosive date night, lots of fireworks, this Wednesday, nada.

It’s done.

Or so it would seem.

I mean, I cannot ever know what a person is thinking, but it’s done.

That’s what it feels like.

And like picking my underwear out of my bum, wrong panties, cute, sort of sexy, purple, frilly things, I apparently can’t pick out guys either.

I mean, I know it’s all a crap shoot, but I have been told before that my picker is broken and it would seem to be the truth.

The thing is, despite rejection being God’s protection, as I was so pithily told today, I still think I had a moment, a minute, a sly, secret hope, that maybe, just maybe, there was something more to come.

No.

No phone calls.

No text messages.

No future date.

And that’s great.

That’s all the information I need.

Move on lady pants.

In better underpants.

So how to do that?

How to keep going out and doing the dating thing if what I am attracted to is not a good fit?  How do people do this thing, this weird relationship thing?

I got to know.

It really feels like this is the time.

I don’t ever recall being at a better place in my life and since I have been in some craptacular relationships when I was in horrid places, wouldn’t it make sense that now that I am in a really good place, I would be in some really good relationships?

Of course.

I am.

I am in a great relationship with myself, I love myself and I can say that without cringing, which, man oh man, there was a time and in the not too distant past, when I could not say that without making a moue with my mouth.

Now.

Well.

I do it every morning.

After I have had my coffee, after I have had my prayers and reading and oatmeal, and I have written for a while and did the hair and the makeup and packed the messenger bag and secured a second cup of joe for the road, then I look at myself in the mirror and I say:

“I love you and I forgive you.”

Then I smile.

Because, god damn it, it’s true.

I love this woman I am and I love the person I am becoming, I know there’s more growth and more challenges and I feel capable of walking through them.

Oh.

I know.

There will be feelings and emotions, I just cannot seem to get past that, but there will be growth and beauty and art and love.

Whether it is love of the women I work with or the women who work with me, or my friends or the fellows in my community, I have strong intimate relationships.

I just don’t have a romantic one at the moment.

I did think that it was coming down the pipe line with this past guy and that’s on me.

I accept that I had expectations without even realizing that I had them.

There they were.

Sneaky little fuckers.

However.

To be honest.

To not put too fine a point on it.

I cannot recall having had that kind of chemistry in a really long time and I think the hormones just blew me the fuck out of the planet.

It’s good to have that feeling.

I believe that it is vital and necessary to be attracted to the person you are dating.

I mean, it just makes sense.

And between last Monday night and Wednesday night I was sugar-coated in desire.

It’s not a bad place to be.

And like a good little addict, I want more.

Since the source seems to have dried up it’s time to go procure elsewhere.

That is not to say that I am so callous as to think I can substitute one man for another.

Rather that I don’t want to sit, lonely girl style, next to the silent telephone.

I have too much life to give and too much love to give.

And damn it.

I am a fabulous kisser.

Let me not waste the sexy sitting in a corner, let me not put Baby there, and let me loose out into the world.

Just, um, help me, will you?

Point me in a different direction.

I am wearing blinders, I always have, and I can’t see off to the sides, the man who might be in the periphery, the person I could be going out with if I wasn’t focused on “what if I had done it different.”

If it was meant to be you can’t fuck it up.

If it wasn’t meant to be, you can’t manipulate it into happening.

There is no going back.

Just moving forward.

With kindness, compassion, and forgiveness for the experience.

Because damn it.

I am worth it.

 

“I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.”