Posts Tagged ‘computer’

Through The Sunlit Room

August 29, 2018

Overcome by your extravagant beauty I fell into your eyes.

I fell into love.

Into loving you.

I had no clue how deep that fall was to take me.

I have no regrets that I have fallen.

Fallen woman.

I am.

Coloured in by states of grace and the softness of your kisses on my face.

You drowned me in the flood of your colour.

In the iris of your eyes as they dilated and opened in the shafts of light falling over you.

Falling in love with you was like falling in love with art.

You are art to me.

Poetry.

Beauty.

Color.

Love.

I had fears of embracing you from before we embraced.

I walked away from you.

I strode away from you.

I got on my bicycle and rode away from you.

Literally.

Thinking to myself, why am I going home alone again?

Why?

As I sit here alone now.

Same table.

Different night.

Unalterably altered by you.

You broke me down though.

You and your shine.

And though danger forbade me I proceeded.

I embraced you and in the embracing.

I found myself.

Not a place I had thought I would stumble upon.

For you showed me to myself.

You displayed to me who I was in your eyes and I became something new to myself.

I knew I was to suffer.

And I didn’t care.

And when I did suffer.

When there was pain.

I stuffed it down.

I sat on it.

I buried it.

I smiled.

And then I cried when you left.

Sometimes slow hot tears that leaked as though steam from a kettle on the stove.

Sometimes torrents that would threaten to capsize me in the very boat of my bed.

The bed we had just ridden through tumultuous love waters to be stranded on the island of you and I.

Population 2.

I became one with you.

I still feel your embrace.

I still feel the weight of you on me.

And.

It fades.

The fading has begun.

I am not overcome by your beauty.

Unless I allow myself to stumble down the hill of photographs stashed away inside my computer.

Or I wallow out into social media scrounging for scraps of you.

Tomorrow will be three weeks since I last saw you.

Since our last kiss goodbye.

Ah.

Now there.

The pain.

It rises.

It is still there, persistent, it says, oh no, not faded yet.

But it is softer.

The sharp edge has dulled down.

The crying does not last as long.

And this too.

Worrisome.

When you are gone.

When I cannot remember the way you smell.

Or how you taste.

Or feel.

The heaviness, so comforting, of you arm across my body.

The crook of your arm as I nestled into it.

Always my safest place.

My home.

In your arms.

And what will become of you?

What will happen when I don’t recall the touch of your hand on my body?

Or in my hair?

Or your mouth on my mouth, my neck, my clavicles.

Remnants.

I have bits and scraps and pieces of you now.

And I try to not try to knit them all together and make a wrap I can put around myself.

To steel myself from being ultimately left by you.

I am afraid to let go of the pain of the loss of you.

Because that is all that seems real anymore.

And if I don’t have that pain.

I will have nothing of you left.

And.

Then.

Then.

Truly.

I will be bereft.

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Locked Out

May 5, 2018

But not for long.

I was just trying to get onto the student loan site.

I need to apply for a Grad Plus Loan.

I have done this once before, last summer when I was in practicum and realized that it was a two credit course, aka, about $2200 that I needed to come up with in order to pay for the supervision that I needed to begin seeing clients.

The school told me what to do and I did it.

I barely remembered doing it, but today when I went and checked in with the financial aid department they gave me the same instructions.

And yes.

My package that I was granted is $3,000 shy.

So.

Off to http://www.studentloans.gov to get me some more money.

Except, I swear, that they need like the name of my first-born child, a lock of hair from a unicorn mane, a sprinkle of fairy dust, me to click my heels three times in precision and spin around in my kitchen, to get into the damn system.

It’s happened every single time that I have tried to utilize it that it won’t accept the password that I have for it and then it freezes up.

So.

First.

I have to reset the password for the umpteenth time.

Then.

I am told that I have to wait 30 minutes.

What the fuck.

Come on.

You have my social security, my birthdate, my three, THREE, challenge questions, my mother’s maiden name, and my phone number.

Isn’t that fucking enough?

Meh.

Anyway.

Glad to know that I can apply for some more debt, hahaha, sigh, but that it is a resource is a comfort.

Plus.

In my visit I found out that I don’t have to worry about my exit interview to graduate with my Master’s Degree as I have registered for my PhD program as well as having accepted the financial aid package that the school put together for me.

That was good news.

The not so good news.

UGH.

Another motherfucking piece of paperwork has surfaced that I have to get signed.

I do not understand why the hell the school doesn’t give each fucking student a packet of the papers that need to be filled out to each cohort as they come in.

Then I could just pull it out, get it signed and turn it back in.

This whole trying to figure out what I need to get to them is frustrating as fuck.

Listen people.

I have gotten straight A’s and am on track to continue that with the papers I turned in and the presentations I have done, plus I have given you a fuck ton of money.

Stop it already.

Seriously.

So.

I got the two pieces of paperwork from the office and I have them in my folder and one I will get filled out next Saturday when I go to Group Supervision and the other I will have to wait and see until I get a reply from my supervisor that I no longer meet with.

I am going to be hella bummed if he asked me to come in early on Monday.

I am looking forward, in a really dreamy sort of way, to actually sleeping in on Monday.

But.

If I have to go in on Monday morning to get the paperwork signed I will.

I’m sorting of hoping that I’ll be able to do it at another time.

We shall see.

I may not even hear back from him until Monday, his work week is Monday-Thursday, he always takes a three-day weekend.

Private practice goals!

Speaking of.

It felt so good to share with the cohort that I had gotten a private practice internship, it was such a nice way to start the weekend.

As well as reflecting to them how much I have grown and grown up.

I compared it to starting the program riding my bicycle to school.

Then I got a scooter.

And today, well, I drove to school in my car.

And found parking!

So nice.

I reflected how far I have come and how much work I have done and I’m pretty fucking amazed.

Of course.

There are a lot of folks who helped me a long the way, some in small ways, some in grand ways.

I am reflecting on my best friend and the support I have gotten and the love for doing the work I am doing and the reflection that I am good at what I do and that I should absolutely go for my PhD.

It means so much that love and support.

I am so grateful for it all.

And grateful that this is it!

This is the last weekend of the program.

Today was the first day, I have two left.

And already a slight change in plans.

A friend of mine in the cohort and I have chosen to skip the closing ceremony and just go out to dinner the two of us.

She’s such a dear friend that I would rather spend the time with her then saying good-bye to people, though I do like them, do not measure up to the friendship we have created these past years.

She lives out-of-state too, so yeah, dinner at Schmidt’s with her tomorrow night instead of the closing ceremony.

I was ambivalent about it anyway.

My closing ceremony will be commencement and my graduation beach bonfire party.

That’s where it’s at for me.

And.

Hopefully I have given the Student Loans Government site enough time to reset.

Fingers crossed I get my new password correct.

Heh.

Kicking Ass

April 27, 2018

Taking names.

Or so it felt like.

I mean.

I just re-arranged my calendar and wrote some e-mails.

But it felt really good.

I had a lot of small things that I needed to attend to today and I was given a beautiful chunk of alone time at the work today to do so.

I knew that I was going to have a couple of hours so I brought my computer with me today.

I don’t normally, but today, with the promise of two to three hours on my own I knew I would be remorseful if I wasted that time.

I read an article for my Research Methods class.

I emailed two supervisors, no, three!

I got my supervision schedule figured out for the next couple of weeks.

Unfortunately I have to skip 1/2 of a class on Saturday of my next school weekend, but as I’ve already turned in my final paper for that class I don’t feel too bad about it.

I usually go to a Wednesday night supervision group if I can’t make my Saturday group and when I e-mailed the supervisor got back to me and said the group was overbooked, she wouldn’t be able to see me.

I was a touch annoyed, but then I thought, ok, I’ll just cut class half way through and I’ll email the professor letting her know why I am.

Basically not playing hooky to go to the beach, but cutting class to spend two hours in supervision so that I can see my clients that week.

Then.

I went over my graduation check list again.

One would think that it would be easy but, um no.

It is two pages, two, of things that need to be done.

From therapy verification forms–my program requires that I attend a year of therapy with a licenced MFT, which I have done but I have not had  my therapist sign off on the form yet, technically I have to attend a few more sessions to hit the 50 sessions required, but I have been going for a year, I’m shy a few sessions from my therapist being on vacation, but my therapist has assured me she will sign the form.

I’ve done 44 sessions, I’ll be doing my 45th on Tuesday and I plan on bringing in the form with me to have her sign it then.

I won’t be ending therapy with her, she’s great and I could stand the support as I proceed further in my career.

Heck.

My career has barely even started, I’m not yet even to the point where I can get paid.

But.

I’m not that far off.

Which brings me to some exciting news.

I have an interview with a private practice to be an intern next Wednesday!

The therapist is a former professor, one of the ones I reached out to the last time I was writing this blog, and she got back to me yesterday saying yes, she would be interested and we should talk, when was good?

I shot her some times and we have a date to talk next Wednesday at 3 p.m.

I am over the moon.

First, because she is amazing and a great teacher and how she held the frame of the class leads me to believe that she is also a really gifted therapist and she’s someone I can learn a lot from.

Second, a private practice intern gets paid.

Not much, but fuck, it’s better than the zero dollars I get now for seeing clients.

I know, I know, all the experience I’m gaining, and though it’s true, I’ve also been training for the last three years to do what I do and I’m good.  I deserve to be getting something back other than accruing another hour towards licensure.

I don’t know how much it would be, but yeah, anything is going to help.

Third, and this is so lovely, she’s got an office at Activ Space, which is where my current internship is located.

She’s in the same damn building!

I could work with her and I could work with Liberation Institute.

I have to stay with Liberation right now until my Associate MFT # is assigned to me by the BBS (Behavioral Board of Sciences).

I cannot be a private practice intern until I get that number.

I can’t accrue hours.

I can’t be paid.

But.

If I’m working for an agency or a non-profit, I work for a non-profit, I can continue to accrue hours and see clients.

I still have to get a lot of supervision, 3 hours a week, until I get that AMFT#, but as soon as that’s done I can go to a ration of 10:1 versus 5: 1 (10 clients to one hour of supervision versus 5 clients to one hour of supervision).

Speaking of supervision, that was also something I addressed today, not just checking in to see where I could get it, but also to connect with my current group supervisor to get the solo supervision I will need for the next three months as I wait for the BBS to assign me a number.

She said she could and we confirmed our first meeting.

Very grateful I can keep my client load and still be getting hours.

I know some folks in my cohort are choosing to take the three months off, but frankly that makes no sense to me.

I have to accrue hours to get the licence, I might as well be doing it for the three months while I wait for my number.

I’m going to have some vacation time anyway, but still it seems frivolous to not be getting some hours during that time frame.

Despite all that, I am very excited by the prospect of getting to be a private practice intern and I’m excited for the convenience, should it work out, I’m used to the space, I know I can park, and I know I could fit in my needs there.

So that was a bit of what I did on my big break at work.

I am very, very, very happy with myself.

And!

I got the framework of my last paper set up.

I started in, I got it organized.

I will be able to sit down this weekend and do the writing, I even did a little bit today.

The final paper is no longer than 29 pages long, not including the bibliography, table of contents, title page, and index.

I have 21 pages written.

I only have eight more pages to go.

EIGHT MORE PAGES!

So damn close.

I’m almost there.

Thank fucking God.

Time To Take A Break

March 12, 2018

I should have just skipped it.

Trying to do more work after wrapping up a fairly exhausting weekend of classes, but no, I tried to do more.

But my brain was not working and as I was getting teary eyed in the Pete’s Coffee across the street from my school I knew it was time to concede and throw in the towel.

I was done.

I was a burnt little piece of toast.

Instead I had a really good talk with my best friend who bolstered my spirits and kept me on the phone out the door of the cafe, into my car and up to the Castro where I had to go for my next round of commitments for the day.

Man.

It was a long day.

And of course, I’m just now remembering that it was Daylight Savings so I was on one less hour of sleep.

I got up at 6:30 p.m. which felt like 5:30 a.m.

In fact, I got up right before my alarm went off to use the bathroom, crawled back into bed thinking I had another hour of rest and then the alarm went off and reminded me, that no, nope, no way, it was time to get up and start my day.

It was a hard day and I did a lot of work to stay with it and I am proud of myself for showing up the way I did.

There is a lot of stuff that needs to be addressed before I graduate and the final projects are coming together and I need to be doing more work around those, but for today, well.

I’m fucking done.

It’s ten minutes to 10 p.m. and I have to be up early again tomorrow to go to supervision before work.

I will say, however, that I figured out one small part of the Diversity Scholarship Application that I needed to do and the problem that was so insurmountable at the coffee shop was quickly remedied when I got home.

Some fellowship, some recovery, some doing the deal, meeting with my person and getting right with God, and voila!

Computer stuff is a walk in the park.

I’m still not doing it quite correct, but I don’t give a good god damn, I did what I needed to do and its enough, I have to remind myself that all that time, the work I do is enough.

I did a lot of work this weekend, I participated in every class, I brought myself forward, I was vulnerable with personal experiences and I used that vulnerability to show resilience and to model how my experiences can be of service to my cohort.

At least that’s what I hope I did.

It seemed as though it landed well, my efforts this week, and I’m happy with how I showed up, although, frankly, exhausted, it’s work, this school program and a lot of that work is process work, processing the experience of being in school, the psychological fallout of my own issues and my own work and then watching the interplay of what is happening with others in my cohort and what they are working with.

It was a lot.

And I’m tuckered out.

I don’t even feel much like writing more.

I sort of just want a snack and a cup of tea and a little video to chill out to.

I have a big full week, of course I do, seven clients this week, supervision, therapy, yoga if I can muster the energy before therapy and work on Tuesday, plans to see my best friend, work, as always, and getting my scholarship application filled out and sent in.

I will finish the rest of the work on the application tomorrow.

Now that I have figured out my technical issues it shouldn’t take more than a half hour, 45 minutes tops, to get everything done and turned in.

Fingers crossed.

The scholarship is worth $5,000.

It is applied directly to tuition.

And I don’t even know what the tuition is yet for the program I applied to.

Hopefully I will be hearing back from the program in the next couple of weeks.

I will either get called in for an interview, or I won’t.

I suspect I will.

The dean of the program had related to me that they generally decide within two weeks of the application deadline who they are going to call in for interviews.

I was told that they’ll make the decision very quickly after the interviews are done and that the entire process is typically done by the end of March.

Today’s the 11th.

I am assuming I’ll get the phone call this week.

That’s the thought, anyway.

And then interview. and then go get my PhD.

Of course.

There will be lots of work between here and there.

I can’t quite hold it all right now though, my head is too full and I am too tired.

So with that.

I bid you a wonderful good night.

And sweet dreamy dreams.

The sweetest.

Radio Silence

December 20, 2017

Not how I had planned to spend my day.

My employers gave me a brand new Iphone 8 yesterday for my birthday.

At one point I tried to set it up but I had many other things on my plate and figured I would just do it today.

However.

That didn’t work.

The dad helped me out, took the sim card from my old phone and put it into my new phone and then headed off to work.

I actually have no idea what he did.

Just that he did something.

Then I swapped over all the information, got the new phone charged up and started and then.

Nothing.

Nada.

Didn’t work.

At all.

I was bummed.

As it turns out, the mom did some research, I had to have the number off the box the phone came in, um, yeah, left that at home, to activate the account with my phone company.

So.

As soon as I came home I logged onto my account plugged in the numbers, did all the things, and nothing.

Ugh again.

The sim card from my old phone was not doing the deal.

I got through to an online chat with my phone company and I was told I have to take the phone into Sprint store and get a new sim card, the card from my old phone is obsolete.

Of course it is.

It was from an Iphone 5C.

I mean what a relic, an antique really.

I thought about taking the sim cared out of the phone and putting it back in my old phone, but first I have no clue, nor the little tool the dad used, and second I deactivated the phone.

Sprint has that all tied up.

I just need to get the new one activated.

So.

Ugh.

No phone for a little bit more.

Not the worst thing in the world.

I do have a chat on my computer that is working and I was able to make contact via that, although I had no access to any messages that came in while I was away, my laptop was powered down, I just had the old stream of messages.

Sigh.

Oh well.

It’s not a tragedy.

And considering how much I processed in therapy and cried, maybe it was God’s way of saying, take a break, get re-centered, focus on taking care of what needs to be done at work.

I am, however, bummed, I will be going in early tomorrow at work, I won’t have time to go to a Sprint store and deal with it.

I am hoping that the mom will let me out sometime during the day to hop to a store and buy a new sim card and get the new phone fully activated.

It could be a fun little adventure to even do with one of my charges, the oldest boy is all things technology and phones, I could see him having fun in a store full of gadgets.

Fingers crossed.

Otherwise I’ll be doing it after I get off work at six pm.

No thank you.

I don’t like being out of touch.

I had a client cancel and wasn’t able to respond until I got home.

I know I missed text messages.

I may have missed phone calls.

The client who cancelled had even requested a phone session, of course, nothing I could do with that one.

I didn’t lose the hour though.

I did progress notes and I talked with the head of my agency and got some ideas about internship stuff and continuing education and what that looks like.

I also did an hour of client advocacy.

And I picked up my trainee evaluation from my supervisor there.

Which was all high marks.

Very happy to be able to send that out.

I found out I don’t actually have to drop it off to the school, I can just send it in the mail, I am loath to go anywhere near campus for a while, I need a break.

Speaking of, the kids had their last day at school today.

Winter break has officially begun.

I will be working longer days for a bit, earlier start at work while the kids are out of school.

But getting to have next Friday off is such a nice bonus.

I was supposed to go in and see my new chiropractor tomorrow, but the mom was desperate for help and asked me to come in at 8:15a.m.

I will be going in and making pancakes for the monkeys.

It’s a long day.

I rescheduled the chiropractor for next Friday at noon and I’ll just have to keep doing the little stretches she suggested.

I do feel a bit out of whack.

I had to carry the baby a bit today in the carrier and he was having a hard time, a bit sick and fussy and there was a lot of screaming, which so rarely happens with the baby that it can be hard to hold.

But.

Hold it I did.

And when he finally fell asleep I just sat on a chair in the bedroom and closed my eyes and drifted.

No phone distractions.

Only warm, heavy, soft baby, breathing against my heart.

I cried a bit.

I processed some stuff.

I thought too much.

Then told myself to stop thinking.

Figure it out is not a slogan.

Then I just drifted in and out of quiet mediation until the baby woke up.

It was quite nice in the end.

The day went by fast and I had plenty on my hands, the baby, both the older kids, the cleaning ladies, cooking dinner, trying to figure out my phone, giving up on trying to figure out my phone, getting to my internship, and seeing the one client who didn’t cancel.

I wasn’t home until 9p.m. then on the chat line for a while, I had to remind myself to eat dinner and drink some water.

And I should pretty much go right to bed now.

But.

A cup of tea.

Just to unwind.

Just to pause and re-center.

It wasn’t a bad day, just different.

Just quiet.

Nothing wrong with quiet.

What I Should Do

November 10, 2017

Versus what I am going to do.

Which is blog.

I should just got to bed, I had a ten-hour work day with the family I nanny for and then I had two clients this evening after work.

I got home 49 minutes ago.

Threw laundry in the dryer, chatted on the phone, threw some food in a pan and ate some dinner.

I should just go to bed.

Right?

I’ve got school tomorrow, a client tomorrow, plans in the evening, more school Saturday, school Sunday, a narrative I have to completely fucking re-write on Sunday for “People Who Usually Don’t Lecture,” I have no days off.

I won’t have a day of for some time yet.

Although.

Whatever.

I will have some day time free coming up soon–the family I nanny for will be out-of-town the 16th through the 26th.

I will have some down time.

I will have plenty to do seeing clients at night, but a lot of my clients are gone for the holiday and I will have off completely, like nothing at all on the books for the Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday of Thanksgiving week.

I’ll spend the actual holiday with my person and some fellows here in the city, but aside from that, I will have some big swaths of time off.

So sure.

I’ve got to be up early and I should just go to bed, but, of course, now that I’m home and ensconced in my bunny slippers with some food in my tummy and some water, I feel bright and alert again.

I also had a couple of really good sessions with my clients and there is something so energizing about that, not thinking of myself for an hour, paying close attention to another, being really present and empathetic.

It can be draining and I have had challenging sessions and have felt zapped to bits afterward, but that didn’t happen tonight.

I had the, “I really like being a therapist!” moment again tonight after my last client left.

And I just floated out of my office and zipped home on my scooter.

I’m hoping I can use my scooter tomorrow.

There is some rain forecasted, but I might be able to hit the window.

The rain looks late morning and early afternoon.

If I can get to school before it hits I should be in class longer than the predicted rain, thus allowing me to get out after the rain and get to my internship.

I have just one client tomorrow and I am coordinating an earlier session time with her so that I might just maybe have a few minutes to do some homework and some grocery shopping, because God only fucking knows when I will get to it otherwise.

I’m really keeping my fingers crossed that the weather will allow me to ride.

I just get here and there and around so much faster, it’s so efficient.

Although, I hate riding in the rain and I won’t ride if I get up tomorrow and it’s raining.

I’ll either take the train in or grab a car.

I want to get up early too and get in a shower and shave and pack up my stuff.

I will probably be taking my laptop with me so that I can do some work on it.

I don’t like doing that, but I also will have time between the end of my classes in the afternoon and whenever my client rolls in.

I may have two hours and that’s a lot of homework reading to whip through.

And a good deal of the reading I have left to do is online.

Which I do not like, but that’s what it is.

I can hardly even believe that I’m in class tomorrow, it feels surreal.

I have not been anxious, oh, a little, I always am a tiny bit before the weekend of classes commences, but nothing like it was before.

I know I can get through the weekend on slight sleep.

I know that I just have to show up.

I know that I need to participate.

But ultimately.

My focus is on my personal life, my work life, and my clients.

I am not really as wrapped up in the school work and the class room time and my weeks are full so that the time in between class weekends seems to have gone by quite quickly.

After this weekend I will have one more weekend of classes and then the semester is over!

That is the best.

Then.

Oh.

One more semester.

In which I will only have three classes, as opposed to the SIX I have now.

Did you know that?

I’m running six classes, working full to over time hours at my job and seeing 8 clients a week.

I am amazed that I have gotten to have any time for play.

But it sneaks in there.

I get brief little blissful moments.

Kisses of time.

Nibbles of passion and sweetness.

Not enough.

No.

Not enough by far.

But enough to sustain.

Just get me through this semester I keep telling myself, I can do this, just get through this semester.

Life will not always be at this pace and I will find more time for myself and my pursuits.

I don’t want to work hard to just work hard all the time.

I want to connect.

I want to dance cheek to cheek.

I want to sleep in.

I mean.

Maybe that’s a stretch.

How about I want to sleep 8 hours.

That would be hella sexy.

I want to read a book that is not psychology related.

I mean.

How nice would that be?

All the things on my mind.

No wonder I am not ready to go to bed right now.

And you know.

That’s ok.

I’ll get rest.

(when I’m dead)

When I want something badly enough.

I will get it.

I know what I need.

I have a lot of clarity around that recently.

I think I understand.

Love.

That’s all I need.

And a little self-knowledge.

It goes a long fucking way.

Seriously.

 

 

That’s Ok

November 18, 2016

It’ll be taken care of.

I have the money.

God must want the city to have a few more bucks.

Just the cost of living in the city.

It’s going to happen once in a while.

I know better next time.

All the thoughts that went through my head when I saw my scooter.

Shoot!

I got a parking ticket.

I was downtown heading to my appointment to get Covered California, which I did not get, I’ll explain in a minute, and I parked between to cars off of Grant Street.

I really didn’t think I was going to get a ticket, but the truth is, I did have a pricking in my thumbs and I was hoping that I wouldn’t be at the office that long and god damn, even on a scooter it’s hella hard to find parking where I was going.

Spring Street, which is where the office is located, doesn’t even have parking on it at all.

Next time.

If there’s a next time.

I’ll pay to park in the garage.

I got popped with an $81 dollar ticket.

The nice thing was that I wasn’t upset.

I was like, well, shoot.

Then I thought.

I’ve paid for the time, I got out of the Healthy SF office far sooner than I thought, as I didn’t end up applying to Covered California, and I pulled out my camera and took some photographs.

It reminded me of the time, about four years ago, that I took a photography class with a mentor and walked around China Town with him taking hundreds of photographs.

I looked up entranced by the red dragon ledges of the building I was parked next to.

Then, I turned and Grant street, right there, so many colors and juxtapositions of signs and lamp-post and hanging lanterns, panda posters, hot pink, lime green, window displays, all the golden dragons floating across the faces of the buildings.

I was entranced and shot a rapid number of frames.

Pictures that I have been trying desperately for the last hour to figure out how to download to my computer.

I really don’t know what’s going on with it, but it won’t recognize the files.

This has happened before and I can’t remember how I got it to recognize the format of my camera and down load the photos.

I spent way too much time on it and I finally gave it up and got in the shower, which is what I should have done much sooner, I am already up past my “bed time” on a school night.

Yes.

That’s right.

Class is in this weekend.

And I have papers to turn in and lectures to attend and friends to catch up with.

I am looking forward to seeing my friends.

Not so much to classes, if the truth may be told, I’m not loving the classes I’m in quite as much as last semester, but that’s ok, I’m sure that will happen once in a while, the material is sufficient and I’m learning, I’m just not finding myself connecting with two out of the three classes as much as I would like.

So it goes.

I need to take some proactive actions this weekend around my practicum stuff too, I’ll be sitting through my lunch hour in an open house.

So much for taking a break, ever.

Ha.

Or catching a break.

I almost skipped over the didn’t get health insurance today.

It costs too much.

“Oh, that’s too much,” she said shaking her head, “you can’t afford that.”

Yeah, no shit.

I was in tears.

“Oh, no, don’t cry,” she said and patted my arm.  “My daughter’s in the same boat, she’s a nanny too.”

Ah.

Those that do the work, sometimes they get glossed over, looked over, left behind, but I won’t be upset, I won’t.

Nope.

I’m going to be grateful.

Because.

The agency is going to let me do Healthy San Francisco for another year.

Thank you!

Yes.

I will take a hit at tax time and get a penalty for not having health insurance, fuck you very much, last year it was $85 per month that I didn’t have insurance.

Whatever.

The cost of the lowest usage, least covered of the packages was still over three times greater in price than what I am paying using Healthy SF.

So.

Even taking a fine on for each month is less than what I would pay.

Plus the copays are stupid.

$75 to see my primary doctor.

Fuck you.

I won’t ever go, what’s the point?

I said thank you so much to the woman who helped me, nearly gave her a hug I did, and wrote up a really nice five-star comment about her service and slipped it into the suggestion box in the lobby before I left.

I had tons of time before work.

What do I want to do?

Get my scooter and move it now.

Too late.

There’s the ticket.

Oh well.

I was actually ok with it, I really was, I mean, hell, I thought, just the cost of finding out that I was going to stick with the health plan and services that I have currently.

I took out my camera, took my pictures, then decided I would go to Rainbow Co-operative and do some retail therapy.

I bought five pounds of Stumptown Holler Mountain coffee.

I got a discount of 10% off the cost of it for buying it in bulk and yes, I will drink it faster than you think I will.

Shhh.

I have a small, heh, caffeine habit.

Don’t tell.

I got myself a few fat and sassy persimmons.

I picked up a bottle of my favorite raw chocolate drink from Rau.

I got myself a box of Christmas cards.

It’s almost that time again.

I got some Mexican chocolate candles.

God damn they smell good.

I got some nice tea to bring to school tomorrow.

I bought some organic nutmeg in bulk.

Because nutmeg.

Then I hopped on my scooter and got to work.

Work was busy.

Another sick boy.

Another batch of broccoli soup.

And chili.

Grandparent visit and the grandpa really loves my chili so whenever they are in town I whip up a batch.

One monstrous big temper tantrum.

But.

It worked its way out and the oldest boy and I had a really sweet moment when we were navigating his feelings.

“When was the last time you got mad?” He asked me.

“Hmmm,” I thought about it, “oh!  Today, well, I was not super mad, but I got a little mad, I got a parking ticket on my scooter.”

“You did?” The mom called out from her office, “how much was it for?”

“Ugh, $81,” I said, “but I had a feeling I shouldn’t have parked there, and well, I learned to trust that voice again.”

“Do you have it?” The mom asked.

“No, I paid it immediately, dropped a check in the mailbox before coming to work,” I replied, and ruffled the eldest boys hair and squeezed his shoulder.

“How much was it?  $81?” The mom asked coming through the kitchen.

“Here,” she said and set $81 in cash on top of my purse, “I always pay a person’s parking ticket, it’s good karma.”

“What?  Are you serious, thank you!”  I was so startled, and grateful, it made me laugh, I truly believed I was going to come into money today and that my ticket was going to be negated.

And it was.

“Absolutely, if I hear someone got a parking ticket I always pay it,” she said and went back to her office, saying as she walked away, “it really is good karma.”

Holy moly.

Thanks boss lady!

Taken care of.

Just.

Like.

That.

Happy.

Joyous.

Free.

All the damn time.

Seriously.

Waiting By The Mailbox

July 18, 2015

Oh Mr Postman
Give me a sign
Tell me you’ve a letter to make me feel fine
Oh don’t you know I am waiting here for you
Tell me it will be here tonight

It’s funny now.

But man, I was kicking myself, hard, hard, hard, when I got off the phone today with the woman in the financial aid department at CIIS (California Institute for Integral Studies).

I mean.

I was fucked up.

I felt bereft.

I felt idiotic.

I felt stupid.

You may be sensing a thematic here.

I had, once again, tried to figure it out on my own.

Coming into work this morning I had asked my employers if I could use their printer to print off the deferment application for my student loan, undergraduate student loans, so that I could begin the process of not having to pay on them while enrolled in school.

They were super helpful, got me all set up, and I got the forms.

And cool.

Done.

But not done.

Oh.

Wait.

I have to take them into the financial aid office and get them signed?

Fuck.

When the hell am I going to do that.

Ok.

The office has office hours, check the website and, oh, damn, exact same hours that I’m working.

Fuck.

I call the office, I speak to the woman on the phone, I’m not even sure how to phrase what I’m trying to do, but I ask if I can mail it in or if I really have to come down in person, hand over the paperwork and do the deal that way.

“Oh no, you just down load the file to pdf, and e-mail it to us, we’ll sign it and send it back, then you print it off and send it in.”

Oh.

Um.

What’s a pdf?

Ok.

I sort of know what a pdf is, but sometimes, most times, my brain is just not hard-wired that way, things that make sense to everybody else are totally foreign to me.

I parroted back everything she said and she said, “yes, that’s correct.”

Then I asked the big time question.

“When will I receive my financial aid awards letter?”

Pause on the line.

“I was awarded a scholarship and I am wondering when the funds will be disbursed, I found out a few weeks ago about the award and was told by the head of the department that an awards letter would be sent out and I just needed to sign and accept the award, but, uh, I haven’t received the letter in the mail yet.”

She did not laugh.

Let me give credit where credit is due.

She did not laugh or sigh or berate me, I did that all on my own quite handily.

“You don’t get a letter in the mail, it’s in your financial aid account online.”

OH.

OH well, fuck me, I haven’t been able to access that account and every time I try it gives me a wrong password message and contact the school and I am ready to bash my head against the wall.

Except that I can’t.

Because the five-year old is done with quiet time and is hollering a the monitor, “CARMEN! CARMEN! CARMEN!”

Oh jumping Jesus on a fucking pogo stick.

I speak into the monitor and tell my charge I’ll be right up.

But I have to clear this up.

I tell the woman on the phone about my inability to access my financial aid account online.

“What browser are you using?” She asks.

“Um, I’m sorry, I don’t follow,” I reply, turning off the monitor so I don’t have to hear the five-year old becoming apoplectic.

“On your computer, what browser are you using, some of them don’t support the website, have you tried switching browsers?”

Something in my head goes, “click.”

“I use Safari,” I say.

“Yeah,” the woman replies, “the site doesn’t work so well with that, try Chrome.”

I thank her and get off the phone, I can feel the fear choking me, I can feel the panic, and I can feel how inadequate I feel for doing all this stuff.

How in the world am I going to navigate doing graduate school if I can’t figure out to switch browsers.

Never in a million years would that have been a solution I would have thought up.

Most of my solutions take an enormous amount of work and effort and then, they don’t pan out.

Keep it simple.

I drop the stupid.

Especially after I got on the phone, after having retrieved both my charges from quiet time and was feeding them cut up organic strawberries from the farmers market I bought yesterday.

As I express to my friend that I am an “idiot” I hear the oldest boy pipe up from the floor, “Carmen, you’re an idiot.”

I paused on the phone call, “that’s not nice.”

Then I realize, he’s only repeating what I have said and imitation is the sincerest form of flattery and in his own little way he was commiserating with me.

Now I know better.

And it was actually good for me to hear it from the mouth of a babe, don’t talk to yourself that way.

My friend concurred.

I told her about the interaction with the woman in the financial aid department and how I’ve been literally, I mean LITERALLY, waiting by the mailbox, I checked it yesterday and every day since I received the e-mail telling me that I won the awards, waiting for that letter.

“That is adorable!” My friend exclaims, “cutest thing I have heard all day.”

And then.

I burst out into laughter.

The boys dance around me smelling of strawberries and the sun shines down on me again.

I get off the phone with my friend and attend to the matters at hand, finishing up the day with the boys and vowing that when I got home I would switch the browsers, now currently using Chrome, thank you very much, and get my god damn awards letter.

And yes.

I just accepted everything a few minutes before starting this blog.

It still boggles my mind that it was there all along.

Apparently one can teach an old dog new tricks.

I still checked my mail box when I got home, though.

Old habits die hard.

Ha.

Bring Out you Dead!

June 3, 2014

I feel fine!

I feel happy!

I feel!

Whomp!

Whoa little computer that could, don’t die on me yet.

Can you at least get me through one more episode of Burning Man?

I opened up my computer this evening with many great things planned to do and say and compute and search and interface and all things, you know, computery.

That’s a tech term, look it up.

(This is why I am paid the big bucks to be a nanny)

But instead of the familiar screen lighting up with my photos and various other assorted icons dancing their cute little way across the bottom of the screen, I got the blue screen of death.

NOOOOOOO.

I tried to turn it off.

Blue screen of death.

Also a technical term, really, believe me, I know these things.

I haven’t seen the blue screen of death before, but heard tales of her coming.

I tried a few things and eventually, as you may have deduced, I got it started.

I having nothing to do with it.

I was resigned to reading a book tonight and having some tea.

That’s not a bad way to spend the evening and that’s what I actually did last night after I finished writing my blog.

Only because the down load I had gotten of Game of Thrones was bad.

Restarted the down load, but the internet was super slow last night, ain’t too fast right now either, and I did not have time to watch it before going to bed.

I fell back on an old habit and read before tucking myself into bed.

It was actually quite enjoyable.

When I saw the blue screen on my computer I thought, well, good thing I renewed my Crash Plan back up system last week on Friday and if I have to go a few weeks without a computer I can.

Grateful as heck that I don’t have to, right now, it’s working.

I don’t know how much longer I am going to get use out of my “vintage” computer, but I am using her until I get the sad MAC face with the XX’s for eyes.

I hear that’s the worst.

I hear that means it’s kaput, kaput.

Until then, I am soldiering on with my computer.

I would actually have the money this month were I super frugal about it to at least pick up a refurbished computer, but I set aside money in my spending plan not for a new computer, but for my trip back to Wisconsin the first week in July.

Not that traveling to Wisconsin is super expensive, I am sure that I will see how cheap things cost and entertain, briefly, never for long, the notion of moving back to Wisconsin.

The siren song of cheap rent and cheap groceries and being a single lady in a land with more men than women in it may trill her heart out, but San Francisco is home.

I pay more in rent than my aunt and uncle pay for their mortgage on their house in Seymour, Wisconsin.

Then again, it’s Seymour, Wisconsin.

What?

You haven’t heard of Seymour?

It’s famous.

Holds the Guinness Book of World Records for the largest hamburger ever.

I am not kidding.

I have seen pictures.

Terrifying.

I won’t be in Seymour though, I will be in Hudson, and if the opportunity presents, up at my friend’s family’s cabin on the lake for a few days.

Again, not expensive outings for sure, but I want to have a nice little bit of walk about money in my pocket.

So, little computer that could, can you get me through another month, or two of computing?

Please.

Thanks!

Maybe I will ask my employers tomorrow to give me a hand.

One of my parents works for Apple.

I would love an employee discount.

Can I work for trade?

I will have to Google what exactly the blue screen means, but I am fairly certain it is not a good sign of laptop health.

And despite the laptop getting a new fan, it’s still shutting itself down after a little while, it gets too hot and just suddenly turns off.

Also, not exactly a sign of health.

I cannot complain though, this little lady has gotten me through years of use.

Years of blogging.

I started my blog with this computer, four years ago?

Five?

I think I have been writing the blog for five years, but it became a full-time thing after I visited my friend in Wisconsin, four years in January.

I know it’s at least four as her youngest son just turned four and he wasn’t walking when I saw him last, so, yeah, I think I have had this laptop for five years.

That’s  a damn good return on an investment.

I have had to take it in twice to the Genius Bar at the Apple Store and once it cost $280 to fix the problem–they actually completely replaced the motherboard–and the second time it cost $53 to replace the fan.

I bought it refurbished for $1100.

So for less than $1500 I have had a really great working lap top for five years.

I won’t be buying anything other than Apple.

You better believe that.

I won’t be mad when this little gal goes her way, just grateful I have gotten to have her acquaintance so long.

She’s been to Burning Man four times, gone to Paris, London, Rome, Reno, Florida, LA, Courbevoie, France, East Oakland, North Berkeley, Santa Cruz, and a few other places.

I have written over 1300 blog posts on this computer.

I have over 7,000 photographs on it.

I have a book written on it.

I have watched a lot of great shows and movies on it and listened to music on her, e-mailed many, many, many an e-mail, and have ordered a few pairs of shoes from the internet on her.

The service has been great.

Thanks little computer that could.

Great to have you for another day.

 

See you tomorrow?

 

Please.

 


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