Posts Tagged ‘childcare parking permit’

I Only Cried Once

June 1, 2016

Ok.

Fuck.

Twice.

And of course, I was wearing glitter eye shadow today.

ALOT.

Fuck me.

Oh well.

That’s what mirrors on my scooter are for.

They certainly were not for anything else tonight coming home.

Holy fog Batman.

I was pretty soaked when I got home.

I digress.

I got out of the house early today to go wait in a line at the SFMTA.

To get a number.

To wait to be seen.

Wait, what?

Yes.

That’s right.

I had to wait in a line to wait in another line.

Ugh.

Fortunately, I had given myself enough time and I was able to address the issue, although, damn it, yes, I did cry.

I got frustrated.

I had all the things, I mean all the things, that they could possibly require, plus photographs of the scooter with the Child Care Parking Permit and my proof of insurance, my license, my title, all of it.

However.

As the supervisor so nicely told me, after I was redirected from the counter to another counter, it was the way it was.

There was nothing she could do.

“Listen, this is just the way it is, I’m sorry that you have to go through this, but there’s no other way, you need to get this documentation every time you apply for a child care permit,” she said, kindly, she was kind.

“But, I’m not asking for a new year long permit, I’m just asking to get a replacement permit,” I said, “the permit is good until November of this year.”

“Doesn’t matter, the city requires certain documentation, here, these are the forms, have your employer fill it out and then she has to come here in person and….”she paused.

I had started to cry.

I can ask for certain things from my employers, I know I can, and I have when I have needed to, but I knew, I mean, I really knew, she was not going to spend any time in the SFMTA to help me get the parking permit.

No way.

No how.

“Please, is there no other way,” I asked, “I just can’t see her coming down to do this, anything, please.”

We worked it out.

I got a sheaf of paperwork my employer will fill out and then she can mail it back to the SFMTA.

Ugh.

So I’ll get to wait another month or so and pay for parking out of my pocket, but better that than the sore knees I have had from riding my bicycle to and from work.

Plus.

Starting next week.

My work schedule will change.

10a.m.-6p.m.

This is my last week, that is, until school starts back up in the fall, with the 1p.m. to 8p.m. schedule.

The boys will be out of school as of Friday.

Which means my yoga schedule will change too.

No more yoga before work.

But.

For this week, I still have the late start and for that I am grateful as it facilitated me getting to the SFMTA and dealing with the standing in line and the paper shuffling.

And yes.

The tears.

There are just somethings that I get worked up about and I knew, I mean, knew, before going in, to not have any expectations.

Still had them.

Surprise.

Fuck.

God only knows what the fuck will happen when I am on jury duty.

Sigh.

Yup.

Got nailed with that too.

My service week is the week of June 13th.

I suspect I won’t get called, but I had to let the family know and the mom was none too pleased about that too.

I can’t delay it.

I did that already.

I was initially called up while I was in the throws of my last round of papers and projects for my first semester of grad school.

There was no fucking way I could do it.

I applied for the six month deferral.

Got it.

And then completely forgot that six months later they were going to cheerfully pull my card and call me in.

Oh well.

Civic responsibility.

“Adulting.”

All that jazz.

I do know that it won’t be as horrid as it could be, schedule wise, the family will be going back to the mom’s side of the family for a little while and I will not have them that Friday, Monday deal.

Of course, I will get to be there to open up the house for the house keeper and do some cooking and take care of things like I do.

This time, though, no locking myself the fuck out of the house.

Not playing that shit again.

My schedule has been a little wonky this week already.

I normally meet with some ladies on the weekend, all of them got rescheduled, and normally, I meet with another lady tonight, but she had work stuff.

I found myself in a part of town I don’t normally get to.

And for an hour.

I had some reprieve from the fog, the parking, the SFMTA, the work, the schedule, the juggling of folks.

It was nice.

I saw some folks I don’t see often.

And though I wasn’t pleased to get out to see how thick the fog had become, holy Moses, it was soup, I was centered and calm and happy to get home safe and sound.

To light up some candles.

To turn on the heat in my studio.

Yeah.

It really is like that.

It’s cold out here.

The fog is something serious.

And I don’t recall it being this dense already at this time last year.

I think I’m in for a pretty fogged out summer.

Grateful I work in the Mission.

I did get to see sun today.

The mom was incredulous that there was anything but sun at the beach this weekend, but I assured her, it really was dreary.

Although.

It is a cozy sort of thing.

Wrapping up the neighborhood.

Softening the edges of things.

The transformers sparking in the moisture.

The smell of the sea.

The call of the fog horn.

Just calls for cozy company.

Which shall happen this weekend.

Despite the tears.

I’m just a girl, you know.

Life is lovely.

It really is.

Fog and all.

Happy.

Joyous.

Foggy.

And.

Free.

 

Find My Way Back To

November 9, 2015

You love.

I have no idea where I have been, but it was never far from this table.

I have spent the majority of today sitting in this chair.

Reading.

Reading

READING.

Some of the reading was with another person and that broke it up and the material was good and well-traveled and there was much experience, strength, and hope shared.

For that I am beyond grateful.

I get to have a full and happy life because I put that first, despite my brain saying, “cancel on everyone you have too much reading to do!”

I ran into a fellow from my school today, a fellow who is in the internship part of the process and happen to have just graduated this past May. ¬†It is really good to see him, I run into him on occasion on Sunday’s in the neighborhood and it’s really a balm to my soul to do a quick check in with him, which is what I did this evening when I headed over to Ulloa and 46th.

I downloaded my experience of reading today and sought his suggestions and experience.

And.

I have to say.

It is so refreshing to hear a graduate of the program say he did not read all the material, in fact, finished very few of the books, did just enough to get by, and that for him the most important part was the experience and showing up.

I have to concur with a lot of that, although it does not completely ring true for me.

When I am doing just enough to get by I’m not always feeling so good about what the outcome is.

Sometimes it’s going to happen.

But.

I feel better and I engage more when I am in school when I have been prepared.

At least marginally.

I do often find myself catching up on the reading that was needed for the prior weekend the week following.

Especially with my Human Development class.

But I am getting better acquainted with my own system and what works for me with the reading and the paper writing .

I have a little system of post it notes and various ways of marking what I want to use in a paper.

I am reading for what resonates and when it resonates a lot or seems to fulfill an overarching need for a paper topic I underline it, star it, and post-it-note it.

Then when I sit down to do the paper I look at those post it notes.

Problem with today’s reading is that so much resonated.

I have a zillion little blue notes all over my Theory and Practice of Group Psychotherapy book.

I have a bigger writing project that is due on the 17th of this month.

That’s nine days away.

But for me.

It’s more like six to seven days away.

As I need to write the paper next weekend.

I won’t have the time or bandwidth to do it after work during the week.

The best I have been able to do in regards to homework during the work week is get up a little earlier than I want to and read a half hour to 45 minutes before i have to ride out to work.

Riding my bicycle out.

At least for the next week.

Unless the family allows me to park the scooter in their garage, which I may try to persuade them to.

I am in the process of getting a child care parking permit through the city and it may take a few days to get all the documentation together as the family has to provide information that proves I am their employee and that further, they have children.

Once I get the permit I will be riding the scooter to work.

As for tomorrow.

I am on my bicycle.

There’s also rain forecasted and although I abhor riding my bicycle in the rain, I have not been on the scooter enough to know how it handles when the streets are wet.

I had enough anxiety crossing a set of MUNI tracks when I rode it home on Saturday, nothing happened, but I imagine that navigating slippery train tracks on a scooter is a skill and since I have only been on two rides I haven’t developed that skill yet.

So.

Tomorrow a ride in the rain on my bicycle.

I rode my bicycle this evening as well since I wasn’t sure when the rain was coming and I figured, again, why use the scooter when it’s just a few blocks away and the exercise will do me good.

The two walks I took today also did me good.

I had to stop a few times in all the reading and just get outside.

I even, shhh, read a fashion magazine for fifteen minutes at lunch time.

Oh.

And I did cook my food for the week–tarragon chicken with mixed vegetables (edamame, corn, carrots, cauliflower, broccoli, onion) and brown rice. ¬†Delicious.

But the majority of the day really was at this table.

I did shake it up for a little while between the after lunch walk and the pre-dinner stroll.

I sat on the chaise lounge under my bright reading lamp and got into the book in a heavy way.

Only keeping a slight eye on the sky as I knew I wanted to give myself a break and walk down to the ocean to catch the sunset.

And I did just that.

Feeling rejuvenated and exhilarated by the sea and sand and the small bands of folks from the neighborhood out with their kids and dogs watching the sun go down.

Then back to the house to read more.

Then dinner and that quick bike ride up to Ulloa and 46th.

And.

Yes.

Back to the house where I put in another half hour of reading to feel like I really got myself in it and starting to suss out the paper project in my brain, I read four and a half chapters today and I probably put in four hours of reading time when it all is added up.

Plus meeting to ladies and doing the deal and cooking.

Not a bad Sunday.

Not bad at all.

And as I walked into my cozy, sweet, inviting, little home, after a chilly ride on my bicycle through the night-time hinterlands of the Outer Sunset, I was met with such a loving warmth and generosity of spirit.

My own.

My self-love and self-care apparent in the pretty things on my wall, in the over flowing bowl of apples and persimmons on the counter, to have established such a lovely little nest to return to at the end of the day blew sunshine spangles into the dark crystal corridors of my heart.

I am so grateful that I have this home and this life.

A scooter.

Friends.

Love.

Recovery.

San Francisco.

Christmas in Paris.

Graduate school.

Life.

Oh.

Life.

I am so very alive.

And so very.

Very.

Grateful.


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