Ready to Fly

I’m at work.

The baby is sleeping.

The rain is falling.

The dad is home sick.

It’s Friday.

I have one client after work tonight then…

Three day weekend!

I’m so ready to be done.

I’m flying out tonight on a red-eye to D.C. to spend time with my best friend in Georgetown.

I do find it rather funny actually that I’m going to be there over President’s Day weekend.

Just sort of how it worked out.

Originally I was supposed to go before school started, but our schedules just did not sync up.

So.

Here I am officially into the month of February getting ready to jettison off for a much-needed mini-holiday.

And!

I’m done with my homework.

In fact, I am a touch a head of it.

I have been assiduously reading, writing, posting discussion posts, responding to discussion posts, et al.

I’ve actually finished the reader completely for one of my classes.

This is not to say that there isn’t work to do.

I’m in a fucking PhD program, there is always going to be work to do.

In fact, I’m sure my guilty student self-will arise any moment now and say something like, “you could pre-read for your other two classes too.”

But the fact is.

I need a break.

And sometimes that is just as important to acknowledge as it is to budget time to do the homework.

It’s been, well, stressful isn’t the right word exactly, but challenging at work this week.

The dad has been home sick every day.

EVERY DAY.

The whole family has gotten sick, and I as well, although not to the extent or severity of the baby or the papa.

For this I am so lucky.

Very happy.

Very grateful.

I caught it last week Thursday, tried to pretend I didn’t have it, had it land pretty solid Friday, spiked a fever while at my office seeing clients on Saturday.

Fortunate for me I had some clients cancel and no-show and I was able to chill out in my office after seeing two clients.

That actually helped me a lot in my advancement through my homework this week.

I wrote a paper and did a bunch of reading.

I wrote another paper on Sunday.

And then have read and posted discussions all week.

I’m just about past the point of feeling awkward with the dad around.

But, yes challenging.

I find I do as much work as I possibly can, but you know, I’m extremely efficient and Fridays the family traditionally orders in food, so I have no food prep or dinner planning to do.

The house is spotless.

I can’t access laundry since it’s next to the sleeping baby.

So I’ve done my homework and then realized, good lord, I still have another half hour or so of not having anything to do.

Somehow sitting on the couch trolling Instagram seems like a bad idea.

I figured if I was writing, it would at least look like I’m working on something.

Dad doesn’t need to know I’m writing my blog.

Plus.

Since I’m flying a red-eye tonight I am going to try to sleep on the plane rather than do homework.

Maybe, ooh, I could even watch a movie.

Ah.

That would be nice.

I do know that I will be happy to hit DC running, my friend will pick me up at the airport, drive me into town and then we’re going to do breakfast, coffee, and doing that infamous deal at a clubhouse near DuPont Circle.

After that I am checking into an Air BnB in Georgetown.

That I was happily given access to for early check in.

Super grateful for that.

Originally the check in was listed for 3p.m.

But I asked if it was possible to get in early and I got a sweet affirmative response last night.

So.

Napping.

And.

Napping in front of a working fireplace.

Yes.

I won’t nap too long, there’s only so much time I get with my friend.

I think we might do a fancy pants dinner out somewhere that evening and then Sunday really just hang out and walk around Georgetown, hit some cafes, grab lunch somewhere, maybe do some shopping.

You know, girl stuff.

And I fly back super early on Monday.

So early that I actually will have most of Monday available to me for life stuff that needs to be done.

I have to drop my car off for some maintenance and I’m hoping to get all my laundry done.

So.

Here’s to there only being two and a half hours left of my work day, one client, and a quick drive home to pick up my suitcase and travel bag.

I’m already packed.

All I have to do is remembered to bring my power cords for my computer and my phone.

God only knows l will likely check into my school work at least once.

Maybe twice.

I’m too paranoid about falling behind to not do that.

But really.

I do hope to take it easy and let myself gently off the hook.

I feel really good at where I am currently in this semester of work.

Sure.

That could change the next week.

But for now.

Well.

Here’s to a three-day weekend!

 

Speak To Me

In the language of trees.

Specifically.

In the whisperings of God dropping through the boughs of the giant avocado tree.

Said tree that I stand next to at times, times of the day when I am alone at work, out on the balcony to the world staring down at the bowl of San Francisco from my perch.

A  perch just on the cusp of Glen Park.

Borderlands to Noe Valley.

A perch of privilege, a deck of wonders.

Who knew there was such a view?

Or that God would choose the avocado tree to teach me of my love for you.

For a moment I could not even remember if you liked avocados.

Then.

The memory of the first time I cooked you breakfast.

(You requested, something simple, like avocado toast, which you got, as well as prosciutto and asparagus fritatta with pecorino and grueyere and fruit, all organic and curated, and granola parfait, said toast dusted with sea salt collected by the soft milk white hands of virgins under the new moon–at least that is what I told you,  as it cost $58 a lb)

How I wanted to please you.

How I wanted to make you happy.

How I wanted to impress you.

And yes.

How I wanted to show you how much I loved you.

Although the words had not been uttered out loud.

They were there.

Lingering in the cast iron skillet I sautéed the asparagus in.

Late spring asparagus I had culled with much discernment at the market.

Everything needed to be just so for you.

You may see how mad I was to impress you.

See.

Here.

Here are my list of skills.

Cooking, obviously.

Did I tell you that I know how to make pie crust from scratch?

I know I must have enraptured you at some point with tales of apple pie and vanilla custard ice cream in the house in Windsor, in Wisconsin, with apples that I picked myself from the Cortland tree.

Apples that to this day I can taste faint, sweet, crisp, with a wicked whisper of tartness that reminds me of you.

You flavor my ways and days and the memory of you wicks through me some times with terrifying speed.

I digress.

Apples.

Apple pie.

Apple tart kisses, my bonny boy, my blue-eyed one, my love, my love, my ardent heart.

I digress.

Where was I?

Oh.

Yes.

Skills.

Cooking, cleaning, pie crust making, massage, poetry, recitations, love-making.

We were oh so good at that last, weren’t we lover?

Digressing again.

I shivered, it felt like withdrawal, in the car tonight, on my long drive home, waiting in line on Lincoln Avenue for the light to finally turn green so that I could turn on to 19th and head to Crossover Drive, to float down the hills, rolling and soft, like a asphalt veld, to the sea.

To 48th and Balboa, my new digs.

You were the first person to see it.

Just the bones, you know.

Just the bare walls and the wood floors and the oh so, oh my God, is it really all mine, deck.

I almost kissed you there, in the shadow of the house, I wanted you to kiss me there, in the corner of my heart, in my new home and cement yourself even further into my heart, is that possible?

It is I think.

You managed somehow.

And though I did not kiss you, I stopped, startled, stunned that I wasn’t allowed to kiss you anymore, momentarily forgetful of this whole grown up thing we are doing, the no contact thing that we keep breaking, like my heart, trying to find our way through the morass and the mire to that high road of love, I wanted to.

I wanted to kiss you.

And I did.

Later.

But I am not at later yet.

For.

I digress.

The digression too becomes a part and parcel to the piece.

Does it not?

Where was I?

Oh yes.

I was shivering.

Shaking with need, a good addict response, what had triggered me?

Aside, not digression, I hate that word, trigger, so banal, so trite, so overused and misunderstood, excuses to act out on desires, I was triggered, I could not help myself, what was it that pulled my focus, that made me shiver.

The damn car wash.

Remember that one?

You know the one, when we were on holiday, what a horrid way to misuse that word, from our sexual appetites, trying yet again to figure out how to be and not be with each other.

We’re just “friends” now.

I knew then, but did not say it, there is no going backwards.

So when we were just supposed to be going for a ride, just supposed to be talking, how we ended up at the gas station with the discount gas if you should happen to buy a car wash.

No overheated teenager ever made out more furious with passion than did we.

I do not know how long the water pelted down but it was not long enough.

It was never long enough with you and I.

And then I’m turning, the light is green, it is time to go, and I let the yellow and orange and white lights of the gas station melt away in the rear view mirror, but the song is still there and I still feel you in the air inside my car, some sort of ghost in the machine.

Deux ex machina.

And I feel you seeping under that layer of skin between muscle and sinew and I cry, out loud, your name in the darkened shell of my car, the dashboard lights the only witness to my pain.

I half expected you to text me immediately.

You do always know when I am almost there on the ledge of love waiting to leap and always wanting you to catch me when I fall.

But you didn’t.

Text me, that is.

No matter how much I may want you to.

You’re not allowed.

I am not allowed.

We are not in that place.

Yet.

And.

I do not know the place exactly that we are in now.

So.

I talk to the avocado tree at work.

I pace the back balcony, the view of the city spilled out before me like a sumptuous private banquet that only I shall eat at.

The clouds, high, and tight in the sky, flick past, but are not big enough to blot out all that wide open blue.

That sky that does me in.

You had to have eyes the color of the sky, didn’t you?

Eyes so blue, so deep, flecked with green and gold and burnished with love.

Like the leaves of the avocado tree.

Leaves that when ruffled against the blue of the sky remind me of when I fell, headlong, heedless, and in absolute knowing, that I was irreconcilable in my love, into the blue of your blue eyes, straight through to the sea of your soul.

I launched out upon that sea and I have never looked back.

And though I am so far from shore.

I know, I really do believe.

That if I can just decipher the secrets that the avocado tree is whispering to me I will unlock the key and bring you back.

Back.

Back.

Down to the sea.

Where the driftwood bonfires burn brightly on the edge of the ocean and the mermaids sing each to each.

Do not make me wait to be old, a Prufrock figure, with trousers rolled, feet bare to the sea-foam, pushed about by incoming waves of salt sadness and sea bream.

Come back to me my love.

Come back.

At least please see me in my dreams.

Where once again I will fall for you with nary a regret.

Never a regret.

Over.

And over.

And.

Over.

Again.

Always.

Will.

I fall.

For.

You.

 

One Down

One to go!

Holy shit batman.

I did it

I just now, I mean, literally two minutes ago, sent in my Research Methods paper.

Fuck did that feel good.

It’s not due for two weeks, but the fact is between working full-time, over time this week and last week, seeing eight clients, doing the deal, and whatever else life throws at me, I only really, for my money, had this Sunday and next Sunday to do the writing on the papers I need to write to wrap up the requirements for my coursework.

I did it!

I wrote my paper.

10 pages.

3,760 words.

It is done!

Such a good feeling.

Today went so well for timing and getting things done, it really unfolded in a lovely, sweet way.

So much so that I am a little in awe as I look back over the day, one thing leading smoothly into the next.

I got up early like I planned.

I went to the 7:15 a.m. yoga class.

Frankly it was perfect timing.

Oh sure, maybe my head was a little grumpy about getting up, but it was just great timing, to get up early to go to the 7:15 a.m. class instead of the 9 a.m. class, it gave me some wiggle room in my day and it was also the most pleasurable part of my day.

Yoga with my best friend than coffee and breakfast.

Then some household chores.

And.

Yes!

Getting all the paper work together for my supervisor to sign off on tomorrow.

Tomorrow is our last day together.

I’m excited to be moving into the next chapter and whatever it holds, though I will miss him, it’s been a good run and I do feel ready to move forward.

It will be good to thank him, hand over the paperwork and get that shit signed off.

After I took care of that I did a bit of food prep and tidied up, not that there was much to tidy, then I took a hot shower, got dressed in my super hero outfit–I like to dress up too when I’m writing a paper, especially since my Sunday evening commitment is in the Castro, and I like to represent–and then did the writing that supports the writing.

My morning pages.

I had a good run, wrote four pages then got ready to meet a ladybug and do the deal.

An hour later I was raring to go for my second lady of the day, but she’d gotten tied up in traffic and wasn’t over the Golden Gate Bridge at our regular meeting time.

I told her to relax, she could do a phone check in and besides, I had a big paper to write.

And.

That little bit of extra time was just exactly what I needed.

I had a small lunch, the breakfast was big, but oh so yummy, so I had just a pear, a piece of cheese, a bite of prosciutto leftover from having my friend over for dinner the other night and then I sat down.

I wrote a little note asking for help writing the paper, said a prayer and dropped it in my God box.

I got all of my resource materials out, all the books and articles, and sources I needed, my notebook and laid them on the floor around my little kitchen table.

One day.

Oh, one day, I will have a great big writing space, a big long kitchen table that I can spread out all my work on, but until then, the kitchen floor suffices.

Then.

I opened my laptop, opened the page to write and jumped in.

Two hours and forty minutes later I was pretty much done.

I had written 10.5 pages.

The paper is only ten so I knew I would be doing revisions.

But.

Well it was 5 p.m. on the nose and I had to meet my person in the Castro at 5:30p.m.

And I did.

We had a great meeting, a great check in, and then I went and spent time with the fellows and that was fantastic.

I am so grateful for my community.

Am I ever.

Then home again home again, jiggedy jig.

I opened my computer back up, did a deep spell check and grammar sweep, and then edited the paper down to a crisp ten pages on the nose.

And after taking a nice deep breath I saved all the changes, opened an e-mail to my professor and attached the paper.

Bye bye!

God, what a nice feeling.

So, so, so nice.

One down.

One to go!

I am so close, I can smell the bonfire on the beach at my graduation party.

Seriously!

I’m Going To Try

And I don’t know if I’m going to be able to do it.

But.

I am going to try to get up and go to a yoga class tomorrow morning at 7a.m.

Which means getting to bed really soon.

Like almost now.

I thought.

Maybe I won’t blog.

Haha.

Yeah.

Like I could even do that if I wanted to.

My day seems to hinge on my writing practice, in the morning and in the evening and it feels so integral to who I am that to not write feels to wierd.

Especially to not write so that I can get enough sleep to get up to go to yoga before I go to therapy before I go to work before I see two clients in the evening before I do the deal before I pass out from exhaustion just reading that sentence.

Run on sentences, no bueno.

Anyway.

The thing is I have been saying pretty much every week that I want to try to get to this morning yoga class.

It’s just super tight on my schedule.

But not so tight that it’s not doable.

It means a few things.

It means having to get my shit together really fast once the class is done, shower, dress, make up, hair, breakfast–which would probably be in the car on the way to therapy or after therapy.

It would mean no coffee.

I don’t have my coffee set up in a way that’s expeditious to make and drink and slam out of the house.

Sure.

I have cold brew in the fridge, but it’s not cold brew weather and it’s not my super yummy vanilla almond milk latte I make myself in the morning.

And breakfast would be cold too, probably a couple of apples or a green drink that I can whip up and throw in a Mason jar.

This is when I think to myself that it’s time to get a really good blender so that I can make a smoothie to take out the door with me.

I’ve had this thought before too, the blender smoothie thing.

Then I think about how I’ll miss writing my morning pages if I go to yoga.

Then I think.

But yoga.

And it feels good.

My brain argues, sleep in, rest, don’t get up.

Just take a nice morning like you usually do and do your routine.

That being said I have also told myself every damn time that I make a yoga class that I wish I was going at least one more time a week.

And what with my current schedule and the schedule at the studio I don’t have another option.

So.

Yeah.

The great Tuesday morning 7 a.m. yoga debate continues.

I really have had this discussion in my head every week for the past month or so.

Ever since I saw it pop up on the yoga studio schedule.

And.

It’s taught by my favorite teacher, so I know I’ll like it.

Ugh.

I should just compromise, write a short blog, drink some tea, eat an apple, watch a little tasted of Peaky Blinders and go to bed.

Sleep is also important to me.

All the things that I try to balance.

I don’t always succeed, but I do find that I am efficient with my time.

For instance.

Today I had some time between supervision and work so I drove to work and sat in my car parked on the street in front of the house and read from a text-book for a half hour.

I also read from that same text-book for the twenty minutes I had before my first client tonight.

I knocked out three-quarters of what I needed to read in that book.

If I keep that going I will be able to have a lot of my reading done for the next weekend of classes.

Just finding the little spaces and places where I can do that is important.

Especially since I have another paper assignment due next weekend.

Well.

Not exactly due next weekend, but by February 8th one part and by February 9th the other.

The thing is because of my work schedule and my internship schedule I find myself having to write my papers the weekend before they are due.

So I’ll be writing it this weekend.

And I also need to put together my application for the Transpersonal Inquiry PhD program.

I have one of my letters of recommendation and I can fill out the rest of the application.

I have started it, but not finished.

I need to also write-up a personal statement and put together a writing sample.

Prove I can write, you know.

I wish I could just send a link to this blog and say, “here you go, just read that.”

Not that it would necessarily be the kind of writing the department is looking for.

However, it would show that I have a strong writing practice.

At least I think so.

Anyway.

Grateful to be home, in front of my laptop with a nice dinner in my belly.

I had an upset stomach again today, the acid reflux is better some days and worse others and I’ve now gotten a second prescription filled and I’m just hoping that it stops soon.

If I have to refill the meds a third time I’m going to have to go back in and be seen again.

Fingers crossed.

I also know that it’s been a super emotional past ten days, to two weeks for me.

Two weeks, it’s been two weeks of super big emotions, mostly sad ones, so the tummy being upset is not unusual, not at all.

But I am grateful, again and again, to keep walking through this and doing the work.

I know what a gift this experience has been, painful as fuck, but beautiful in its own way too.

For there is no lack of love, there is in fact, so much love that I am constantly awed by it.

Awed.

The love is so big.

I am besotted and graced with that knowledge.

I am loved.

And.

I love.

To love and be loved.

It is.

Absolutely.

The best thing in the world.

Seriously.

So Fresh and So

Clean.

Clean.

My house looks pretty fucking good, let me tell you.

All the laundry done, all the trash and recycling out and swept, swiffered, vacuumed, scrub the bathroom down, tidy the fuck up.

Which means one thing.

Mama had a lot of homework to do today.

My God.

There is no fucking end to it.

Yet.

Me thinks I see a glimmer of a light at the end of the tunnel.

Oh.

The light is far off, but I can sense it getting closer.

I did so, so, so much work today.

My god.

My brain hurt.

Still does, not as much, and hurt might not be the right word, but I was worn out with the material, as I was warned that I might be, but I toughed it out.

I finished all of my Elder, Spousal, and Child Abuse class.

Huzzah!

But man, it took the stuffing out of me, and I don’t eat stuffing.

Haha.

It was a lot of reading, and a lot of watching some intense videos.

I wrote out responses to five of the sections, I got three out-of-the-way previously.

And I wrote a clinical mock-up of an elder abuse situation and what I would do, from mandatory reporting to clinical interventions and everything in between.

It was a lot of work.

But.

Fuck.

It’s done.

So happy I got all of that out-of-the-way, it really was the big monster in my block of classes.

I also finished all my reading for Transpersonal, which means, drumroll please…

I have no more reading to do for the semester!!

My God.

That feels fabulous.

I am not, however, out of the woods yet.

Tomorrow I have to write two papers.

One will be fairly short, two pages, on a dream I had, it will be my last dream to tun into my Jungian Dreamwork class.

The other will be a bit longer, but not too bad, five pages.

That one will, however, be a bit more formal and honestly despite having finished all the reading for the class I’m not exactly sure where I am going to go with the paper.

I was also in contact with my group today working on our final project presentation that I will be doing the last Saturday of classes.

I’m hoping to knock out both the papers and the group work tomorrow.

And also, if I can swing it, the Psychopharmacology online portion of my Psychopharmacology and Human Sexuality class.

I have a paper in that class due at the end of the semester too and one for my Drugs and Alcohol Class.

Sigh.

That will be for next weekend.

I can get it done though, especially since the Elder, Spousal, and Child Abuse class is completed.

My God.

One more class done towards my degree.

Which reminds me, I have to register for classes in two days.

In two days I will register for my last semester!

I only have three classes.

It is going to feel miraculous after carrying six classes this semester.

I have only done four classes at once before, this semester was a stretch, and obviously, it’s not done.

OH.

And I still will have a final paper for Jungian DreamWork too, it’s just not due until after the last weekend of classes.

Which is always a conundrum.

Crush that bitch out of the park and get it done before my last weekend of classes, or finish that Sunday when I get out of classes.

Because the damn thing is due on the 15th of December and I’ll be working all that week and of course, seeing clients.

There’s no way I can do two big papers tomorrow and the small one and the online portion of my other class.

No.

I will be a wastrel of a person.

But.

Maybe I can do them next weekend.

Maybe.

If not, maybe I can get it started.

It would mean three papers next weekend.

Sigh.

I got invited out to the movies tonight.

I turned it down.

I got invited out to dinner.

I came home and made my own.

I am going to be over the moon when this semester is done, it will be nice to have a little more wiggle room for social outings and such.

Although I do have breakfast plans with my best friend in the morning.

Super excited for that, really happy to get to have some time before I get into the homework grind.

And if I’m good and grind hard and get a lot of it done, maybe I go to yoga.

Not the regular Vinyasa, nope.

My ankle is doing better, but not that much better, no, I was thinking maybe the Restorative yoga, my brain is going to need some restoring to normality by the time I crank out all the homework I have to do tomorrow.

Grateful I know how to write a paper and grateful for my ability to pull together my notes and book references and make it work.

I can do it.

I have my process and I’ve done the biggest work, which is the reading.

That’s the most important.

I’ll skim through my books, grab a stack of post-it notes and flip through my class notes, I will put together a skeleton of the paper in outline by looking through my materials and see what my common themes are.

Then.

I’ll write that bitch.

It’s five pages, so with prep time, reference time, write time, I am going to give it two and a half hours.

Actually.

That seems too long.

Two hours.

I’ll kick out the dream paper in twenty minutes, I don’t have to write it up with references, it’s just me doing what I do anyway, write what I see in my head, so two pages will be twenty minutes, thirty tops.

So maybe I’ll have all the writing done with in that time.

And that should give me enough room and time to finish the rest of the online material I need, I suspect that will take an hour to two and also writing out an outline and making a worksheet for my final project for Transpersonal.

That will take forty-five minutes.

So.

What am I looking at?

Five hours?

I think I can do that.

Breakfast shenanigans are early so I’ll be in the mix by 10 a.m. like I was today, today I finished at 6 p.m. working pretty much straight through, yes, even when I was cleaning I was doing homework.

I had to watch a few videos, but I will admit, I was listening to some of them while I was cleaning, the material at times was graphic and I found it easier to integrate when I was cleaning and sweeping and washing.

So if all goes as planned I’ll be done by five or so.

I have an hour break at 1p.m. to do some work with a lovely lady and get right with God, a break after that for lunch, and then back in it.

It will get done.

It will.

I can do it.

I can.

Go team go!

Heh.

Unexpected Overtime

And not really what I wanted to be doing tomorrow.

That is.

Going into work two and a half hours early.

I normally start on Wednesday, which is my “short” day mind you, at 10a.m. and work until 6p.m.

Eight hours.

Respectable.

I call it my short day as I don’t have any clients, I don’t have therapy before work, I don’t have supervision.

I just work.

Tomorrow I’ll just be working 10.5 hours.

I’m going in at 7:30 a.m.

What did I do today, ten hours, or was it eleven?

I’m not sure.

And yesterday was eleven or twelve.

Mondays and Tuesdays are my longest days as I have commitments before my eight-hour work shift and then clients after.

I always look forward to Wednesdays.

They are delicious.

And well, I’m not looking forward to tomorrow.

I’ve been inside all day for the last two days, granted I did have a kind of respite with a very sleepy baby who napped in the carrier for two and a half hours.

It was dreamy.

But it was also hard to hold the baby that long, I basically had him in the carrier for three hours.

My back felt pretty fried by the end of it.

Although I was able to sit outside for a good bit of it, which was nice.

I pulled a chair out onto the porch and daydreamed and counted the different colors of green I saw and watched hummingbirds and butterflies.

I saw hawks circling, a mating pair and one of their brood, a tiny little hawk, which I didn’t even realize was there until it turned just so in the sky and I saw this tiny little red tail hawk floating between its two parents.

It was beautiful to watch.

Poetic.

There were ravens as well, some crows, and seagulls and a couple of morning doves.

It was a warm day so it was nice to be on the porch.

Even if I wasn’t actively outside, I was outside and the air was good.

I’ll be staying inside a lot tomorrow too, one more day home from school with a sick kiddo.

Who has requested that since I’m coming in so early and he’s not going to school, that I make him pancakes.

I’ll be making my own breakfast too.

I usually get up two and a half hours before I need to be at work.

I give myself a half hour for the commute, which I don’t generally need, but rather that than feeling rushed on my scooter.

The other two hours are my morning routine, making breakfast, praying, reading some spiritual books, writing, having a nice unsweetened vanilla almond milk latte, getting dressed, doing my hair and makeup.

Tomorrow though I am not feeling it.

I am feeling that I will want to sleep in as much as I can.

If I have to be at work by 7:30 a.m. it means leaving here at 7 a.m.

I need a shower, so I’ll do that, but I think I’ll skip my breakfast and my writing, I’ll drink my coffee cold, shotgun some out of my mason jar I keep in the fridge for iced coffees when the feeling strikes, and then just get dressed and put on some make up and scoot.

I figure I’ll make breakfast at my employers house, I am always welcome to eat and drink what ever I want there.

So.

Yeah.

Breakfast on them.

My charge will most likely be sleeping for the first hour or so that I’m there, so I’ll have a nice breakfast, look at the view, drink some hot coffee and do some writing.

When he gets up I’ll make him pancakes.

And I think I’ll do some apple picking from their apple tree and make the family a pie tomorrow.

That will kill some time for me.

Ugh.

I’m not excited about it.

But.

Oh well.

I keep telling myself that I just need to hold out until November 16th.

The family is going to go on vacation and I will have November 16th through the 26th off.

Ten whole days!

I will have clients during that time and supervision and therapy.

But I will also have yoga in the mornings and homework, homework, homework.

I have to address my Child and Elder Abuse online class which I have only read a couple of articles from, I am hoping that I will do all the work during the ten days I have off.

I don’t have Thanksgiving plans, which is no big shakes, I’ll probably go to a movie, I’ve a hankering to see the new Blade Runner movie, and I’ll probably go do the deal somewhere and get right with God.

I’ll do a lot of that, now that I am thinking of it, while the family is a way, that will be a nice thing for me to add into the mix for those ten days.

Yoga, recovery, homework, a movie, and I am also planning, not sure what day yet, but one of those days, to go get a new car.

Still debating buying versus leasing but I am beginning to think leasing, especially as I found out I can get a tax break on gas if I’m leasing a car and driving it to work.

That would be nice.

I do have some anxiety about the expense of a car, the uptick in insurance, keeping it clean, gas, I mean I set aside some money to put gas into my scooter before I go to work tomorrow, $1.38.

I feel that it may take a bit more than that to fill a car tank.

Then again.

I am also super excited for a car, it feels like a kind of freedom I haven’t gotten to experience in a while and it’s also self-care.

That’s what my therapist says anyhow.

And I believe her.

She really good.

She sees me and reflects and mirrors and validates and gives me perspective.

Oh.

The perspective.

Sigh.

And all the work that is yet to be done.

All that too.

Anyway.

The work that has to be done now is winding the fuck down.

I have more work to do tomorrow.

And that is fast approaching.

Seriously.