Posts Tagged ‘Bartlett Street Farmer’s Market’

There Is Only

September 23, 2016

So much I can do.

I told myself as I felt completely blown out of the water by an e-mail I got from one of my professor’s today right before I left for work.

It was a cheery, chatty little hello death bomb.

You want me to what?

Why are you telling me this now?

It’s the fucking day before class and I’m working you twat.

Fuck me.

You can’t spring an assignment on me that last-minute.

I was spaced out the entire time I was on my scooter heading into work.

I kept having to pull my attention right back to the road, to the moment, to the feel of the wind on my body, to the blue sky over me, to the cars in front of me, the lights and the intersections.

By the time I got to work I felt overwhelmed and anxious as fuck.

I called a few people.

I felt the fear like a strangle hold on my neck.

I couldn’t breathe.

I started diagnosing myself with affective disorders from the DSM 5.

Just a little light reading before heading into work, no  worries.

I joke with one of my cohort that there should be a diagnosis in the DSM 5 for anxiety caused from being in graduate school.

I broke it down to myself today.

I can only do so much.

Listen.

The fact that I got out of bed, made it, and prayed was a big deal.

The fact that my rent is paid, my phone is paid, I have a clean home, my fridge is stocked with food I have cooked for the weekend of classes, that I have a job to go to, it’s enough.

I told myself these things.

I looked up at the trees, green, gold, red tinged with yellow against the cerulean blue sky, the cooing of mourning doves on the telephone wire, the warm sun, the cool wind.

I breathed.

In and out.

All I need to do is this.

Breathe and do the next action in front of me.

Panic is not going to help.

I look at all the things I do right.

I am not drinking, smoking, or blowing lines of cocaine.

I don’t eat sugar or flour.

I have a prayer practice for fuck sake.

I’m doing ok.

If grad school imploded.

I’ll be ok.

“Carmen, even at your worst, you are a rock star student,” she just assured me over the phone.

Thank God for my people and their perspectives.

Plus.

I had a major curve ball thrown my way with work this week.

Not like that hasn’t affected me a bit.

Please.

Be nice to yourself.

I caught my breath.

I got my bearings.

I knew I was ok.

I knew it was enough.

It just has to be good enough.

I just show up and that’s the majority of the battle anyway.

The nice thing for me too is knowing that I have to do a certain amount of self-care, this blog is one of the things I do for myself.

And you thought it was all about you, didn’t you, you sexy thing.

No.

I don’t much write with the audience in mind.

If I do I might freak out.

MY MOTHER COULD BE READING THIS RIGHT NOW.

Jesus fuck.

That’s enough to make a person edit themselves.

Heh.

But no.

I digress.

I know there’s only so much that can be done in a day and I do so much.

Really I do.

Even when I lose focus, even when I get complicated in my head, even when I want to shout, don’t you see how hard I’m trying?

There is no one to shout these things to.

Just me.

Whistling in the dark.

As the case may be.

But I think of the owl, the heart shape of his face, the cold dark eyes, the white fluttering wings, and I feel that I am just exactly where I am supposed to be, learning all the things I need to learn.

“People tell you who they are in the first moments you meet them,” he told me gently.

Yes.

What do I tell people in those first moments?

Can I treat myself kind so that others may give themselves permission to do so as well.

Can I smile.

Offer the kindness of a gracious demeanor, can I say thank you and please and you are welcome and it’s nice to see you too.

Can I remember a person’s name.

I can.

And I got through the day.

Granted I had to talk myself out of a hole a few times.

I fell in it.

But.

I also got to smile at the cashier at the market and wish her a happy day, I got to say thank you to Dave Hale who always has the best apples at the Bartlett Farmer’s Market, I got to get hugs from the boys and kisses from the dog.

I got to raise my head to the sunshine and lift my face in the wind.

I get to show up tomorrow and I get to be in graduate school.

If life were fair I’d be in the gutter.

Or.

Dead.

I mean.

Let me be honest.

I should not be here.

Too many things colluded against me for my life not to be viewed as a miraculous, magical, amazing gift.

I get to do all these things.

And I’m grateful I got this thing called perspective in my back pocket.

All I have to do is look around my beautiful little home to know that.

I have so much.

And when my head tells me I’m not enough I know that I don’t have to listen to that lie, that’s just an old tape that needs to get thrown in the garbage, not put on the negative feed back loop.

The highlights of my life are still to come.

It is only getting better.

Seriously.

 

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If I Ever Have Kids

November 14, 2014

I’m hiring you.

Or that was the gist of what my friend said, in not quite so many words.

I ran into a friend today at the Farmer’s Market, he perused the fruit and vegetable stands with me, giving me ample shit for the amount of apples and persimmons I bought for myself as well as running to grab me a coffee from Ritual when I realized the coffee stand was not present at the market.

Had I known, I would have hit up Grand Coffee on Mission between 22nd and 23rd.

A person has to give it to Four Barrel to have the foresight to be setting up, ala Trouble Coffee, in a small walk up space on Mission Street in an area that is so rapidly becoming gentrified I almost miss the used and rent to own furniture stores on the street.

Almost.

I have to admit, I don’t mind the gentrification of the Mission.

Oh.

Yeah, sometimes it gets weird or strange to be in a neighborhood that I have known rather intimately and be run over by some kid who gives me a snotty look as I navigate the stroller down the sidewalk, but for the most part I really like having umpteen coffee shops and markets and art and nice things to look at.

It makes my work environment rather a treat and it was a treat to see my friend and to acknowledge to him later that he was a part of the process of getting the job.

Not directly, mind you, but through the vast amount of encouragement he gave me to find better work.  He and a number of my friends, including the one who did refer me to this current job, all said the same thing.

You can do better.

You can make more money.

You are amazing.

“You are stellar with kids.”

Thanks man.

I appreciate that.

I don’t have any plans to have any of my own, I was asked that yesterday by the nanny I met in the park who knew the boys from their previous nanny, I mean I am just trying to get a date up in here, let alone planning on having any little guys of my own.

Therefor I feel privileged to get to work with all the babies and toddlers and children I have gotten to work with.

It’s been quite a journey.

I really never expected to be a private, professional nanny, it just sort of happened on its own with me struggling against it for a very long time.

But when I acquiesced, said ok, let’s make this the career, things started to happen.

That’s not to say that I won’t pursue other goals, I really have to.

I couldn’t nanny like I do if I didn’t have outside aspirations.

I may not have a book offer, or a book I really feel like putting back out into the atmosphere, but just knowing that I do write and do have books in me and words and blogs and poems and such, it makes the nanny career palatable.

Enjoyable.

I have a well-rounded life.

A life that includes dancing too!

I was able, finally, after much messing around with my computer last night, to log onto the site and purchase tickets to Opulent Temple’s event Gratitude at The Armory, for next Saturday, November 22nd.

I will be doing my usual gig up in Noe Valley until about 10 p.m. then scooter over to the Armory down in the dirty Mission, and get my dance on.

The party goes until 2 a.m.

I doubt I will go that long, but I can if I want to, I can sleep in the following day, or nap, or not, but I have a chill Sunday next week, so far.

I have nothing happening this weekend.

Yet.

Who knows.

The weekend is not quite here yet.

And.

Oh dear.

I did it.

I just downloaded Tinder.

I have no idea if I am going to like this thing, but I am pretty over OkStupid, just not having any luck with it, nor have I gotten asked out over the last weekend, so, time to take an action.

Any action.

I know that action is the key to getting things happening.

I also know that Tinder may not be the thing that gets the date, it’s sort of like saying, hey, Universe, see look, I am trying new things, I do want some different results, what do you say?

Let’s go on some dates.

It could be amusing at the very least.

The app is still downloading to my phone so nothing to report yet.

Hahahaha.

See how impatient I am?

I decided to flip the dating switch and keep trying to do it.

I haven’t gotten much feedback from friends in regards to how they do it, the dating, that is, but I have gotten a lot of encouragement for putting myself out there, for asking guys out.

“You are so brave.”

Or stupid.

I’m not sure which.

However, as I pass another old growth tree in the Pan Handle on my way home from the days journey, I know that ultimately what I do with this life is of little lasting consequence.

Therefor, go for it.

I mean, why the hell hold back.

If there’s something you want to try.

Try.

If there’s somewhere you want to go.

Go.

I, speaking of which, want to go to Hawaii.

It’s come up again for me as a friend recently got back from a trip and the photographs she sent me as well as the coffee mug from Kauai Coffee with a hula girl on it and the tea and well, damn it.

I want to go.

So.

I’m going to.

I think there could be a conference or something I could hook into of like-minded people.

I know I will be heading to Atlanta in 2015 for one, I could probably do the same in Hawaii.

Anyway.

Thoughts for today.

I’m a great nanny.

I’m single and available for dating.

I’m going dancing next weekend.

And I want to go to Hawaii.

Ready Universe?

Go!


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