You Know You Love Some One

When you record yourself reading “All The Hippos Go Berserk” by Sandra Boynton.

At top volume and with much expression.

I got some of the sweetest little voice messages from the littles I used to take care of.

The family and I did a FaceTime session early in the week and I have been getting all sorts of pictures of them and their adventures during shelter in place.

I miss them a lot and I miss the snuggles.

Tonight, while I was in session with my last client of the day, the mom sent me voice recordings of the kids saying “I love you.”

Oh my God.

I just about died.

I have been thinking about sending the littlest guy a recording of the “hippo book” as he calls it.

“You read me the hippo book!”

I bought the book and “Belly Button Beach”, also by the same author, as birthday gifts for him when he was two.

Listening to him repeat back the words to me still makes my heart melt.

I often would read them to him at nap time.

“I’ll read the hippos once and then nap time,” I would tell him.

The last time I did that was the last time I worked for the family, my last time putting him down for a nap.

My last time reading him the hippo book.

When I finished he said, “sing me song.”

That undid me.

I sang him my standard lullaby, “Hush little baby,” and choked back the tears.

Might have been the hardest lullaby ever to sing.

He fell asleep holding my hand.

Oh, my heart.

Such a sweet guy.

So, after receiving the sweet voice messages I knew I had to record the book.

I have the damn thing memorized, so it wasn’t too hard, and I threw in a little commentary for the little guy too.

We would have our own little conversations about the story and what all the silly hippos were doing.

Then I sent it to the mom and asked that she play it while he looked at the book.

They sent me back video of him looking at the book while my voice was reading it to him and he talked back at the phone like I was there.

“I love you Carmen,” he said again and again.

That was the best part of my day.

It was a pretty good day too.

Only cried three or four times.

Mostly during supervision with my supervisor talking about my clients and all the fear and anxiety and terror that so many of them are going through.

I have had 21 therapy sessions this week, I have one left for tomorrow, then Sunday off before I dive back in.

I am doing pretty well holding it all, but it does leak out at times.

It is right there at the top of my heart and I can’t always contain it and the tears spill out of my eyes and roll down my face.

I am so grateful for my individual supervisor, she really held my stuff today and let me process all the stuff and work my way through the muck.

Most of the time I am really good at shaking myself out when I finish with clients and I have little routines and rituals at my office that help me do that.

But right now.

My office is my desk, which is also where I study and work on my homework–which frankly has suffered this week, I will not lie.

My office is my desk, my laptop, my phone, the video camera in my Macbook Air, all of which are located in my house.

My one room studio.

Thank God it’s a big studio, but it’s still a challenge.

I am also aware of how lucky, really, really, really lucky, it is that I can work from home.

Despite how much I love and adore the family I used to nanny for, I would not be able to nanny right now for them even if I was still employed.

The timing of the situation coinciding with me making the full transition over to being a psychotherapist still astounds me.

I am beyond grateful.

And I am working my ass off to stay stable and grounded, to eat good food, to cook nice meals, to take walks when I can, to wear nice clothes, put on my makeup, do my hair.

The only concession I have to the fact that I am doing my therapy practice out of my home right now is that I wear my Tretorn sneakers instead of my Fluevog heels.

I had a fleeting, and I do mean fleeting, moment when I giggled to myself, I could do my therapy sessions in my bunny slippers.

Um.

NO.

Bad idea.

Not just because I couldn’t take myself seriously as a psychotherapist if I was doing sessions in my slippers, but I love that at the end of the day I can slide off my shoes and put on my slippers and that indicates to me that my day is done.

That was what I used to do when I was coming home from the office and my day out in the world–get home, kick off my shoes and put on my bunny slippers.

Yeah.

I know.

I am a 47 year old woman who wears bunny slippers.

I once had a lover tell me he couldn’t take me seriously when I was wearing them.

Of course that just made me want to wear them more.

In fact, it is almost slipper time.

I have had a good day.

It’s ok that I cried and it’s ok that sometimes it’s hard and it’s ok that I’m not keeping up with my my homework.

Actually we are on “Spring Break” so I don’t have any thing due, but I have a lot of work to do for two big up coming papers and a class that I am going to be teaching.

But over all.

I am ok.

I am making it through and staying grounded.

It definitely helped to get silly and record myself reciting the story, helped remind me of how loved I am and how lucky I was to have the nanny job with the family for the three years and three months I worked with them.

And.

Really.

Bunny slippers do make things a lot better.

Seriously.

Bear Witness To

That’s what got me today.

Not the music.

No.

I was careful about my music choices people, I’m learning.

But the wanting to share something with you today.

I wanted so much to pick up the phone and talk and tell you how my day has been, how my week as been, how I feel overwhelmed and that I can’t do it and then you would tell me I could.

I was going through my private practice folder, trying to figure out some things and I touched the leather of the binder and I suddenly lost it.

I remember standing outside the restaurant after brunch when we were on vacation and looking at these soft, supple leather folders and purses and bags, gorgeous hand-made, hand tooled, beautiful pieces.

I bought a bag for files and a folder for my legal pad and I was so happy, over the moon, to be there walking through the city with you, the sun shone down, and yes, there was some sadness that day too, we had some talks, but there was the etherealness to it to.

I remember how you always offered me bites of your food, how you know me so well and in my abstinence you always took care to be kind about my food choices, well, maybe you teased me a little, but you were so sweet.

I was struck by how, later in the day after much walking, you grabbed a hotdog from a street vendor and had a couple of bites, then you ripped off the bun from the un-eaten end, and offered it to me for a bite too.

All the small, sweet, considerate gestures that do me in.

But it was that folder today.

I cried out loud.

I wanted to tell you about what has been going on, how things are moving forward, that I have an office to sub-lease, that I have rent to pay, that I have things happening, that I printed off another syllabus and read from one of my new books, that I had struggled today to not be anxious about all the things unfolding.

When I picked up the folder I realized that you were no longer here to witness me, to tell me how proud you were of me.

I know logically that I don’t need someone to pat me on the back and say, hey you’re doing a great job, I can do that for myself, most of the time, but it just struck me hard, I wanted to tell you and I can’t.

All the things I want to tell you.

I wrote you another letter today.

I told you a little fantasy I had.

I wished for you happiness and joy and kindness, sweetness, and grace.

I pray for you every day and every night and I pray to make it through to the next thing that I have to do.

I have a lot of things to do.

I did get a lot accomplished today and I am proud of myself for doing as much as I did.

I cooked.

I roasted a chicken and I made a turkey and vegetable stew with brown rice.

I cleaned my house.

Aside.

Man oh man, put a syllabus in front of me with homework on it and watch my house suddenly become sparkling clean.

I mean, I cleaned my house.

I have even started tackling some things like cleaning out the freezer, I figure I won’t be here much longer and if I tackle small bits of a big job they will get done eventually and not all pile up on me right as I’m making my move.

Second aside.

I have a place I am going to see on Wednesday.

I know, I said I was waiting.

But have I told you how loud it is here?

It is loud.

And it is uncomfortable.

I saw an ad last night on craigslist and I thought, wow, I should respond to that.

It’s not in a neighborhood I would have ever even thought to look, Sea Cliff, and it’s a unique housing situation, an Au Pear (which means guest cottage), with a drastically reduced (for San Francisco) rent with the caveat that when the family that owns the main house is away the tenant takes care of their dog.

I went to bed thinking, do I want to clean up dog poop and get up early to walk a dog a couple of times a month/year?  I don’t know how often the family travels or what exactly the schedule of care looks like, but yeah, do I want to clean up dog shit for a lowered rent on a cottage in Sea Cliff?

A cottage.

A stand alone, one bedroom with a library!

Oh my God, my little PhD student heart went pitter pat.

In Sea Cliff.

Now if you don’t know San Francisco that means nada to you.

But if you do, you know that Sea Cliff is crazy high-end, big houses, big sprawling yards and gardens, by Baker Beach with all the iconic views of the Golden Gate Bridge you could shake a stick at.

The house is literally across the street from the ocean, the cottage has ocean views.

There is also very little traffic in Sea Cliff, no buses or municipal vehicles go through it, no trains, it’s not quite a gated community, but it is super high-end fabulouslity.

A cottage in Sea Cliff would probably rent for $7,000 and upward, I may be lowballing that number too, I think it’s pretty rare that anything in Sea Cliff would actually be rented, and if there are rentals, well, they are freaking expensive.

So a cottage, again, a one bedroom with a library and the biggest freaking windows and wood floors for $1680 a month that includes utilities and parking and laundry?

I’ll pick up some dog poop people.

I have an appointment to see it on Wednesday.

I’ll keep you posted.

And in the meantime.

Love of mine.

I think of you often and wish we could talk and dream of a time I can once again be in your arms.

And yes.

Of course.

I cry.

In cafes with my confidant, at home holding things close you gave me, in the car listening to our music.

I hope you are well, I hope you are muddling through.

I miss you.

I love you.

Always.

Always.

Your baby girl.

Almost Over

The jet lag.

I forget that it takes a bit longer for me to adjust on the way back.

I was sitting at the park watching one of my charges swing and suddenly I got whacked with the tired’s.

I looked at my phone and realized it was 1 a.m. Paris time.

Of course.

I am still surprised that my body doesn’t adjust as fast as I think it will.

But I only had to take a look at the baby this morning as he fell asleep with his head down on the table, to see how powerful it is when we mess with our time clocks.

He was so sweet and out hard.

He didn’t wake up, although he fussed a little, when I removed him from the high chair and got him snuggled down for his nap.

I had a moment of wishing to just hold him and let him sleep against me, but the other two monkeys are with me full-time this week, school’s not yet back in for them, and it would have been too much to juggle a sleeping baby on me and two high energy kids on top of it.

As the case was, the little lady decided to help mom with chores and the eldest and I played Monopoly.

He’s really quite good for an 8-year-old, but he had a hard time with losing.

I didn’t rig it, I won, yes, I am that person, I am the person that will beat a kid at a game.

And not because I’m an asshole.

My mom was an asshole to me the first time I learned how to play Monopoly and was extremely competitive, she and her friends would have Monopoly parties that went on for hours and hours and days at a time.

They would leave the board set up in the kitchen and keep playing until there was a winner.

I was quite fascinated by it and at some point I learned how to play.

I learned how to be cut throat.

It wasn’t much fun.

Although the competitiveness of it was a kind of excitement that I had not experienced before that ramped me way up.

No.

I wasn’t trying to be an asshole, but I was trying to show him what it felt like to lose.

He’d rather win.

What kid wouldn’t?

But he’s also smart enough to know if I was throwing a game.

I have been tempted to before, he likes a couple of card games and he’ll get super upset if I win, but he also notices if I’m not playing with my all, so I just stay honest and play like I mean it.

Which is how I played the Monopoly today.

And he was good, not great, but good, and I could see that he was super into getting the money and collecting the properties and building the little houses and hotels up.

He was also expecting to win and a bit flabbergasted when he didn’t.

I told him how proud I was of him for figuring out big words, and for doing math problems and for playing as long as he did.

I also gently pointed out that there were things that he did super well, that he had ideas about how to make investments on his properties and figured out that he should put more houses on the properties that were landed on most often.

He was picking up strategy.

He didn’t much want to hear it, but I told him anyway, and when he realized that the person with all the money was the winner he went quite socialist on me and it was so sweet.

He decided to make up his own game where all the hotels became public housing and there were gardens and places people could go and get soup and be fed and it was so endearing to watch him draw it out on pieces of paper and talk about how having all the money wasn’t the most important thing.

I don’t know that he’s going to remember our game of Monopoly down the line, but it felt like a little victory, a win even though he’d lost, that he figured out that money wasn’t the most important thing.

It was probably pancakes.

He adores pancakes and I obliged this morning and made him breakfast (and lunch and dinner).

It was a lot of cooking today, but I don’t mind, I do like cooking for them and often I will make things I don’t myself eat, which is fine, I’m not tempted, it’s actually rather nice.

I used to love to bake before I got abstinent from sugar and flour, so it’s rather soothing and fun for me to cook for the family, I get the joy of making things that others enjoy and pancakes were definitely on that list.

So too, apple pie.

Which I will be making two of tomorrow.

I wasn’t expecting that, but dad’s got company coming over and a big request was made for my apple pie.

I don’t mind really, it’s nice, like I said to bake, and truth be told it does make my day go faster.

It will definitely eat up some time.

Which I’m all about on Fridays.

So despite the bit of jet lag, I am making it through.

One more day of work and then a very busy weekend.

I have an early interview on Saturday for a private practice internship, then a dentist appointment, then group supervision, a nail salon date for myself, a get together to do the deal, and then a late dinner with my person.

And Sunday will be full too.

But I’m not there yet.

One more day to go.

Thank God it’s almost Friday.

I Could Get Used To This

Having a little down time that is.

I mean.

I still got hella shit done today.

Two loads of laundry, recycling, grocery shopping, food prep for meals for the week, fresh sheets on the bed, shower, morning yoga class, breakfast, coffee, updating clients on upcoming vacation, writing, meetings with two different ladies.

I got shit done.

And.

I also sat outside and ate a late home cooked meal for lunch and let the sunshine hit my face and light me up inside.

I watched the ravens swooping over the back rows of houses behind the end of the fence marking the property line.

I closed my eyes and just was.

Then.

Holy mother of goodness.

I read a book.

Not a psychology book, although there were some interesting bits in it that were definitely psychological.

No.

I read for pleasure.

And it was so nice.

It was just the bomb.

I love reading and I believe that by the end of my last semester I was so read out that I wasn’t going to be able to pick up a book again for the summer and read anything.

I was burnt out on reading, text books and online articles and doing research and underling bits and pieces and this and that.

Going over readers with hundreds of articles and emptying out my closet of stacks of books to write that final big thirty page paper.

I actually just got back the comments on that paper today.

I had this moment of dread when I saw the e-mail.

There had been this bit in the syllabus that said if you didn’t do all the points of something in the paper it would get returned to you and you’d have to rectify it.

For just a moment.

I kid you not, even though I had framed my diploma today, which means that the grades were turned in, I got an “A” for god’s sake, I thought, shit, I fucked something up and I’m going to have to re-write that fucking paper.

Hahahaha.

Ugh.

Thanks brain.

I really could have gone without that thought.

But no.

The paper comments were quite nice and I got a lot of compliments for my understanding of psychodynamic theory and how I’ve integrated that into my sessions with clients and I got huge thumbs up for the case presentation part, both the presentation I did in class and also the write-up of the case, my professor was very effusive.

That was nice to read.

And yeah.

I did, as a matter of fact, frame my diploma today.

It looks really cool.

It’s hanging in my little kitchen above my sink.

It wasn’t exactly my first choice, but as it turns out the fancy frame I bought was literally 1/2 an inch too big to put it where I wanted to with my undergraduate diploma.

The only other place in my in-law that had any room was in the kitchen.

I like it though, I can turn my head and see it and there’s something about the placement in the kitchen, at least for now, that appeals to me.

I did a lot of self-care during my three years working on my Master’s degree that had to do a lot with cooking and making meals and trying to eat well and take care of myself.

I realized at some point that roasting a chicken was a really nice thing to do on a Sunday when I was writing papers.

It would warm the house up and when I was finished I would have a hot meal.

It’s some how apropos that my diploma is in the kitchen.

It makes sense.

One day, and not too far way either, it will hang in my private practice office.

I’m excited to be getting tiny baby steps closer to that goal every day.

I really feel like I am on a career trajectory towards making a real income and having my own business and supporting myself as a therapist.

I actually can see a time, in the not so distant future, when I will hang up my nanny clogs and bid adieu to working as a nanny.

I’m ready for that.

Of course, until then, I do have the best family to work for.

I’m so excited too for this week.

A week from tomorrow I fly out of SFO to JFK.

I have one more week of work and then five weeks.

FIVE.

Of paid time off.

I can hardly breathe with excitement.

I am not going to pick up a lot of extra client hours either.

Maybe a few here or there.

But rather, I am going to go do the deal a lot, I’ve been asked to speak at some afternoon places that I wouldn’t normally be able to do.

I’m going to have lunch dates with friends.

I made one tonight with a dear friend who spoke up at my commitment.

I’ve never been to his work and he’s been on me for ever to come down and have lunch at the office with him.

Done and done.

I went over my calendar and saw a few days when I can get in an extra yoga class.

I will also be doing some research for my paid internship, that meeting with my new boss and supervisor will be happening on July 11th.

So much lovely stuff to look forward to.

It’s going to be a fantastic week.

I can feel it.

I also only have five clients this week, so I don’t have to do an extra hour of supervision.

And!

Oh yeah.

I’m finally getting a hair cut next Saturday.

I’ll be all sassy for New York.

I’m so ready for that trip.

I’m so excited.

Glad I had down time today.

Grateful for sunshine, meals on the patio, pleasure reading, framing my diploma, making homemade food, friends and lunch dates.

Grateful for a life full of love.

So much love.

The Miracle

That is sleep.

My God.

REVELATORY.

How much better I feel from having gotten a full nights sleep the last two days.

I mean.

Fuck.

I feel like superwoman.

I”m also a little afraid that I won’t be able to wind down from this good, good, good feeling in time to go to bed at a reasonable hour tonight, I do have supervision in the morning before work and that means an early start to my day.

But for right now.

Damn.

I felt really good today.

And yes.

A teeny tiny bit sassy.

I rocked some blue glitter lipstick for the fuck of it all day.

Because sometimes a girl has to work it.

Plus I had my Sunday evening commitment up in the Castro and I need to bring it for the gay boys.

“Girl.  I am LOVING the blue lip,” was said to me many a time tonight.

My pleasure to provide the glam.

I love going up to the Castro and being fabulous.

Fuck.

I love being fabulous in general.

But even though it is San Francisco, there is still a lot of tech culture here that seems to translate to some pretty fucking boring ass clothes and looks.

Lots of yoga/work out gear.

Which I suppose is fine if your going to the gym, but all day long?

Please.

Some style.

Sundays I also feel like I can be a bit sassier too as I’m not seeing clients and I’m not working.

I don’t have to find that oh so fine balance between what I can wear as a nanny and then what will translate to seeing clients in the evening.

I typically find something neutral, black or grey and then bring a long a pair of my Fluevogs to slip into when I finish my hours with the family.

My shoes elevate my outfit and make me feel like I’m stepping into my psychotherapist persona.

One day.

One day in the not so distant future.

I will not have to wear nanny shoes again and I am certain I will let my wardrobe reflect in the not necessary to wear something that may stain easy, shred easy, get yanked on by a toddlers hand, spilled on by an eight year olds excitement with helping me cook dinner, or have stickers put all over my outfit by a five-year old with a thing for glitter and unicorns.

I feel her though on the glitter.

It’s silly, but it makes me happy.

A friend in my cohort once sent me a little article about why humans are drawn to glitter–it reminds us, that animal part of us, of the way light reflects off water.

Makes complete sense to me.

I just now that it makes me happy.

Today I felt happy.

I might have also allowed that to spill over into a few purchases today.

I got myself a new Iphone 8 phone case.

The family I work for gave me a brand new Iphone 8 for my birthday along with a silicon cover.

Unfortunately the silicon cover won’t work with most glues or adhesives, so the magnet that I have on the dashboard of my car won’t work with the cover.

My best friend suggested a thin magnet in between the cover and the phone but I decided I really just wanted a new cover, one that I could affix the magnet to, and one that’s more me than the bright red cover that’s on my phone.

I mean.

Red’s nice and all.

But when a girl can have pink glitter?

Well.

Yeah.

So, happy equals getting a new Iphone cover in pink glitter as well as a new set of headphones.

I am over the moon at the ones I found and pretty happy with the price, $79.

I got a pair of retro over the ear headphones from Imego.

They are super cute.

And I am happy to have them for my trip to Paris.

It’s a long flight, a bit over ten hours and I will want good headphones.

I can’t wear ear buds for too long, my ears are actually pretty small and the buds hurt my ears after a while, they are too big, and it gets really uncomfortable after a few hours of wearing them, usually I can’t go more than that without having to take them out.

I splurged when I moved to Paris five years ago an a really nice over the ear set from Head Candy and I had them for almost four years, but they got worn out and the last time I went to Paris they died.

I was going to get some before I went on my trip to D.C. but never got around to it.

Since I recently got my tax refund I decided it was time to get a new pair.

I’m quite happy and I know that I will have happy ears on the long flight there and back.

Yes, it’s a bit early to be thinking about Paris travel, but I also know that sometimes when the timing strikes I just have to do the thing and get it off my list of stuff to get.

I got a lot done this weekend, the sleep really did help, from doing all my laundry and housecleaning, to selling clothes, getting a manicure and my eyebrows waxed, to dropping off clothes to get mended, and a pair of my dear Fluevogs to get re-soled.

I also cooked lots of food, roasted a chicken today and also made an Italian chicken and sausage stew with crushed tomatoes, mushrooms and artichoke hearts, so yummy.

I got to hang out with my best friend and have some spectacular connection.

I got to be of service.

I met with some of the ladies I work with.

I did my commitments.

I went to group supervision.

I went to Office Max and got some folders and a binder for keeping my paperwork together for graduation purposes.

I even did some reading for school.

And now.

It’s time to wind down and get ready for Monday.

It’s going to be a week.

But.

Then again.

When fuck isn’t it?

Heh.

 

Poof

And the weekend is over.

Where the fuck did it go?

So fast.

It went so fast.

I did get a lot accomplished today, however, which is probably why it went so fast.

I wrote like a maniac.

I wrote a lot personally and I wrote a paper for class, I have another weekend of school coming up.

I did not write the two papers that I had hoped to get to, but I wrote the one that took the most time to do.

Fingers crossed I will have some time this Wednesday to address the other paper and if worst comes to worse, which I am really fucking hoping it won’t, I will do it Friday after class and before my client at my internship.

I think that I can get it done this week, I just need to be diligent.

I also needed to throw another thing into the mix as I had to get an appointment with another therapist.

Not for more therapy, I have a therapist for that, but as an assignment for my Integrative Seminar class.

We were assigned a coffee, tea, lunch date, to talk with a licensed therapist about what they would have done differently in their journey to licensure and what they would suggest I do.

I reached out to three different therapists in my community and thank God, one of them finally got back to me tonight.

I will meet with her Tuesday after I wrap with my client.

Fortunately I had a cancellation that night so I will be getting done about the same time, it’s not an additional hour on top of having seen two clients.

And.

She works in the same building as my internship, so I will only have to go to her office and hang out and ask her a few questions and be able to report back to my class what I got out of the interview.

I am so grateful that she got back to me, I was starting to freak out about being able to do the assignment.

And now I have a time and I have the paper written for that class I feel ready for going into the weekend with the class.

The other class I have to write an annotated bibliography.

Not really my cup of tea, but I’ll get it done and I’m fairly hopeful that it won’t take all that much time.

I also have some reading to do for the class.

The professor added up some online content that I haven’t had a chance to dive into yet.

I’m not going to beat myself up about that.

Not tonight.

It was a day.

I did so much work.

I can let myself off the hook.

I can let down my guard a tiny bit and let myself reflect on the work done.

Some of it was super fun work.

Like meeting my best friend for coffee and going to yoga today.

And I didn’t mind my chores either, I went and did a little grocery shopping at the co-op and I made soup for the week for my lunches and I roasted a chicken to have for my dinners.

I met with a ladybug and did the deal.

And then yeah, I hit the paper and knocked out six pages.

The total paper will be thirty pages.

There are four parts and this part was the shortest part of it.

I’ve already written ten pages, so the two combined gives me 16 and leaves 14.

Very doable.

I just need to do seven pages for the next weekend of classes and seven pages following that

And then.

Oh.

Sweet.

Sweet.

Sweet.

Graduation.

I received word that the ceremony will be from 3p.m. to 5p.m.

Which gives me a time frame.

I can invite up to six people.

I have my people chosen.

I am lucky for their support and love.

So lucky.

I have had such a lot of help getting to where I am now.

I have done a lot of the work to get there, but I have also had such support.

One of those supports I met with tonight and got super honest with and did a lot of work with and reading and praying and talking.

Intense heart wrenching work.

I am grateful that I showed up and grateful that I walked through fear.

It is not easy to walk through fear.

I do not know what lies a head but I realize again tonight that I just have to practice having faith.

Fear and faith are very much alike.

Belief in something that you cannot see.

I just tend to get stuck in fear.

I promised myself that I would stay in faith.

In trust, in belief, that I am loved, that I am doing what needs to be done.

It’s scary stuff and I’m just going to have to do it.

I have faith that the outcome will be even more love.

That’s what it’s all about.

Love.

Love.

I can’t put it any other way.

Love and belief that I am being taken care of.

That you are being taken care of.

That the world may not make sense to me right now as I walk down this corridor of experience.

I may feel like I am walking through a dark hallway, not knowing what will happen.

But there is light.

And I will step out into it.

With more love.

More compassion.

And more faith.

God did not bring me this far to drop me on my ass now.

I don’t fucking think so.

Or you.

We are being held.

Taken care of.

And.

Yes.

Darling.

Loved.

I promise.

 

Did It

I wasn’t sure there for a moment, but I got it done.

I wrote my big paper that was due today in the middle of a full day, and just now finished editing it and sent it out.

10 pages.

3,759 words.

Hello.

It wasn’t a hard paper to write, the words came fast and furious and there was much I could have written about but did not.

The paper, at least this portion of it, was very self-reflexive, I was really writing about my own experiences in school and showing where and when I learned and what was valuable to me.

There have been so many things that I couldn’t even begin to touch upon them all.

And since I have a way with words, words way with I have, I wasn’t too hard pressed to just let them come  out.

Still.

I have to say I was impressed.

It may have been the fastest I have written and the biggest quantity of work I have done in a one day go of it.

The paper will eventually be thirty pages, but if the rest of the paper goes as swimmingly I don’t think that it will be too challenging to do the rest.

Heck.

I only have to do twenty more pages.

I have an option of not writing the full thirty, I could instead write a 12-14 page paper and do a live website.

I was going to do the website and the short paper, but at this point, fuck it, I figure I’ll just save that headache, building a website, for another day.

Hell.

I’ll probably ask a friend to build one for me.

I know little about building a website and though I’m sure it’s not difficult, I don’t want to stress about it.

If I can knock out ten pages as quickly as I did today I won’t have a problem just doing the big paper.

I also had just a fabulous day, I’m quite certain that there was something in the air that helped me to get the writing done.

I did get up quite early.

I was having a dream and in the dream there was very loud classical music playing, it sounded baroque, perhaps it was Bach, and I was doing pirouettes in a huge ball gown through an enormous ball room that was framed by these huge windows, so high, leaded glass and arched, and the floor was parquet and there were trees outside the windows through which this golden green dappled light flooded the room and splashed off my flying dress and my hair whirling around me.

I swear it was how loudly the music was playing in the dream that woke me up.

I awoke and it was dark, pre-dawn dark, I looked at my phone and it was 6:07 a.m.

Sigh.

My alarm would go off in eight minutes, so I might as well get up.

I got up put on my yoga clothes, made my bed, drank some water, prayed and did my morning routine, then set off to Java Beach with a couple of blankets in a beach bag.

My friend was already at the cafe and it was so good to connect.

Really good.

We got coffees and then walked to the beach.

We found a great spot in the dunes, pulled out the blankets, spread them on the sand and sat and talked and watched the moon set over the Pacific ocean, the surfer’s up doing their dawn patrol, the ship on the horizon pulling closer and closer to eventually sail somulent and slow under the Golden Gate Bridge.

The sun rose behind us and lit the sky with rosy pinks and striations of mauve and light purples.

It was warmer than I expected.

The company was fantastic and I got re-acquainted with my friend whom it felt like I hadn’t seen in years, though it was just a few weeks ago.

So much can happen in a few weeks.

We caught up and drank coffee and got sand every where and it was good.

The best.

The best.

The best.

And someone had a bonfire down the beach and the smell of it intoxicated my heart and reminded me of the night so many years ago when my mom and her boyfriend scooped up my sister and I and took us to the beach at night and we built a bonfire on the shore.

I collected shells in the morning and then we went to a little roadside cafe for breakfast.

It may be one of my favorite, if not my favorite, of my earliest memories.

And to have that same smell, morning ocean smell entwined with the drifting smell of bonfire, oh, it made the company that more exquisite.

How lucky I am to have the people in my life I do.

So.

Very.

Lucky.

Then yoga class at 9a.m.

And it was a fantastic class.

The instructor was great and I did something today that I have never done before in yoga, I had a fully extended stretch sitting on the mat, feet forward, arms in front of me, bending at the waist, flat back, hands wrapped around my feet and yes, I was able to touch my forehead to my knees.

I have never done that.

I have always wanted to be that flexible and there it was, the stretch happened today and it felt glorious, to be in my skin, in my body, and stretched out.

Afterward the hottest shower I could stand and breakfast, coffee, morning pages.

I wrote a lot of morning pages today too, just trying to capture all the things I saw and felt at the beach, the intermingling of memories and how they became big and miraculous and full of love, sublime.

And of course.

I had to clean the house.

Because.

Um.

Yeah.

I had a big fat paper to write, so best scrub, vacuum, cook, do laundry, and dust.

Fuck, I even washed the rugs in the bathroom.

Then I just said, enough, get to it.

And I got to it.

Super grateful I got done what needed to be done today.

It was a big push.

But.

Well.

When your day starts out as lovely as mine did.

Anything is possible.

Anything.

Happy New Year!

I really haven’t any resolutions to share with you.

I prefer to just treat each day like it’s a new day instead of having expectations that I need to change or get better or perfect something.

I need to grow a little everyday and not try to cram a bunch of resolutions into my day and think that I’m going to change over night.

Little bits by little bits.

Baby steps, baby.

And I took some nice ones today.

I got out of bed.

I know.

Crazy.

I really wanted to stay in bed and in fact, did sleep past the point I would normally get up.

My brain was trying to hijack my body though and convince me that I didn’t need to go to yoga.

I needed to go to yoga.

It, my brain, almost won out, but I have smart feet and I also have inborn knowledge from having done enough yoga that I always feel better after a class, even if it’s with not my favorite instructor at the studio.

Which is the excuse that I used the day before to not go, but really, I assure you I had gotten plenty of exercise the previous twelve hours to not feel upset about missing a class and I think that I needed the extra sleep yesterday.

Today, not so much, and I knew that I would not be happy with myself if I skipped yoga two days in a row during a time that I could be going to yoga.

I can’t typically make it to classes during the week, work and my internship conflict, so I’m a weekend warrior.

To not go on both Saturday and Sunday would have been sacrilege.

So I got my happy ass out of bed and into my yoga clothes and I stayed in them for a long time.

It was a great class, I was really surprised, maybe not having any expectations that I would enjoy the class I actually did.

I came home thinking that I wanted to go on a bike ride too, the bike ride had been running around in my head for a few days now that I think on it, and I figured I could actually make it a nice physical day for myself, maybe even go back to the late yoga class.

It’s a restorative yoga class, so it wouldn’t have been like a big effort, although I didn’t end up going, something else came up.

But.

I did go on the bike ride!

It was great and in fact, I might let myself go on another tomorrow.

I was supposed to meet with a ladybug today, but she had to cancel, so after a good check in via phone, I pulled my bike out and pumped air into the tires, grabbed my messenger bag, a water bottle and my bike locks, in case I wanted to stop anywhere I could lock up my bike.

I rode out from the house down 46th to Sloat, then up to Great Highway, up past the zoo a bit, and then stopped right before the hill to gaze at the ocean for a while and snap a quick photo of my bicycle, she is a pretty, pretty thing, before I headed back down Great Highway, riding past my turn off to Fulton Ave, the up to 47th and around the park for awhile, around the soccer fields and the back side of the Beach Chalet, I went past the archery fields and eventually popped back out onto Lincoln Ave at Chain of Lakes, back down to 46th, then two blocks back to the house.

It was smashing.

I am so glad I did it.

Aside from the exercise it also felt really meditative and I reflected over and over again how amazing it is that I live somewhere so beautiful, that I literally am blocks away from Ocean Beach, that I get to ride my bicycle around a world-renowned park, that I get to live here in San Francisco.

It is a huge gift.

After the bike ride I had a late lunch and then made some chicken soup.

I’ll be visiting my person tomorrow, he just had a hip replacement surgery, and I wanted to bring him some more chicken soup, he’s gone through the two big Mason jars I gave him right before the surgery.

I’ll be heading is way by 1 p.m. and we’ll go for an easy walk around the block.

Like literally.

Just around the block.

And maybe a few minutes of hang out time.

I don’t think he’s got the energy for big visits, but he wants to see my face and I, his.

It will be good to see him.

I’m also going to hit up another yoga class tomorrow.

It’s nice to have a Monday off and the studio is open.

That will make three yoga classes over the weekend and a bike ride.

Not bad.

Especially for someone who is  loath to exercise.

I generally like it once I’m doing it and I know how important it is to move my body, but my brain is a sabotaging machine.

Anyway.

I signed up for the 10 a.m. yoga class and I’ll see my person at 1p.m.

Other than that I have no New Year’s Day plans.

Doing the deal somewhere and chilling out with my new book.

NEW BOOK!

That’s not a psychology book.

I know.

Crazy.

I went up to Blackbird Books, the new book store in my hood next to Trouble Coffee, and splurged on the new Jennifer Eagen book, Manhattan Beach, I’m going to indulge my literary self and not read any psychology for at least a week.

So freaking sexy.

I may just spend most of tomorrow lazing on the chaise lounge after I get back from helping out my person and just read.

Such luxury.

And that’s it, that’s my New Year’s Day plans.

To chill the fuck out.

The year is going to be full and amazing, hello, I’ll be graduating, going to Paris, and starting  PhD program, traveling to D.C., and who knows what else will happen, seeing many clients and nanny’ing up a storm.

Wishing you and yours the Happiest of New Years!

Big love from the city by the Bay.

May the year bring you so much love and joy.

So much.

Whole Lotta Nothing

Not that it was bad.

No.

It was divine.

I only left the house today to go to yoga.

And.

I almost didn’t go.

My brain said, hey, you were sick yesterday really bad, you should lie in bed and make sure that you’re ok.

Even though I was pretty much back to my normal self by the time bed time rolled around last night, no nausea, no headache, so no reason for me to lay in the bed this morning.

I got up and got dressed and walked over to yoga.

And it was good.

I got nice and warm and sweaty and had a good work out and stretched and my back is slowly feeling better, between a couple of chiropractor visits and doing a little more yoga, I have a much happier back.

Sure, some poses still not great at and I couldn’t hold a few of them today, tough on the tender ankles, but I know that balancing is helpful for strengthening my ankles and I also did some foot exercises today that my chiropractor recommended to me for strengthening my ankles.

I went though and I am happy I did.

It was the only time I went outside today.

I ended up taking a huge hot shower, wrote many pages in my notebook, and then had my best friend over for hang out time.

Lots of talking, hanging out, getting caught up, and I made some yummy food.

I cooked up my version of a Cajun gumbo/jambalaya.

Sans the crayfish.

I used shrimp instead.

It wasn’t really a gumbo and it wasn’t really a jambalaya, but it was somewhere in between and it was tasty.

I am very happy I made it too, knocked out some food prep for the week, what wasn’t eaten was put up and frozen and I’ll probably run some over to my person too, who’s recuperating from a hip replacement surgery.

I got the best text message from him regarding one of my soups that I had given him.

I made him an Italian sausage with white bean soup and then my version of chicken soup with veggies, brown rice, and Andouille sausage.

He was very, very happy with them both, but I think the latter got the big applause.

I do like to cook, it’s a nice way to show someone who you care for that you love them.

Since I don’t eat sugar or flour I don’t make super intricate stuff for myself, but since I know how to cook and have cooked plenty with those ingredients, I know how to combine flavors.

Sometimes I have no idea where the stuff comes from, I’m just like, hmm, put that with this and see what happens.

It’s a nice skill to have and I’m always surprised that so many people can’t cook or don’t know how to do even basic stuff.

I’m not a great cook, but I’m good and I feel like I’m definitely better than the average bear.

My friend seemed quite happy to eat the food.

I don’t recall any complaints.

We hung out past sunset, which really isn’t that late since the sun goes down around 5p.m. and by the time my company had left and I washed up the dishes and put everything away I had absolutely no desire or urge to go outside.

It’s just too cozy in my little house and I’m happy to stay put.

It feels rather nice to not have clients tonight, to not have work either, which is why I was able to go to a 8:30 a.m. yoga class today, the family I nanny for went out-of-town for the weekend.

I’ll be going back into work on Tuesday.

Back to therapy, back to seeing clients, back to it all.

Fortunately the kids will be going back to school by that time as well, working early every day this past week, with the obvious exception of yesterday having called out sick, is a bit of a grind.

I don’t mind it horribly and I’m always glad I can be flexible for the family, but it will be nice to go back to my regular hours.

In the meantime I don’t have a lot planned for the weekend, and no plans at all for New Years.

I would just rather skip it.

I have my dance party on January 13th and that will be my dancing fun, I don’t need to go and be out amongst the hoi poi over the weekend, I’m more than happy to skip lines, drunks, amateurs, and Uber and Lyft crazy drivers from out-of-town.

Not sure what I’ll do, if anything, to celebrate.

More yoga.

The studio has classes on Monday, so technically I could do yoga tomorrow, Sunday, and Monday, making it a four-day run for me.

I think that’s the best idea.

And maybe I’ll take a little trip to Stinson or Muir in my car.

I got my FasTrak in the mail today, so I can pay tolls via that instead of cash and it’s a no brainer to get over the bridge.

I do have group supervision tomorrow, lest I forget, though it was a very, very quiet week for clients, only one client, I only have to attend group, which is nice, but I do have to attend.

My solo supervisor is still out on Monday, which is New Years Day, so I won’t start back up with him until the 9th of January.

A tiny bit more of a break.

School is back on the 19th, 20th, and 21st of the month, January that is.

I still have a few weeks before I have to start thinking about it, although I already have a tiny bit.

I just checked my grades, I’m still carrying a 4.0!

Huzzah.

That’s always nice to see.

I also need to start looking seriously into applying to the PhD program at my school if I’m going to do that.

I think I have to apply by February or March.

My supervisor at my practicum site already said he would write me a letter of recommendation.

I definitely want to have that!

Plenty to think about and do over the next few months, but for the rest of this weekend, I’m just going to chill out, do lots of yoga, cook some nice food, maybe I’ll even buy a book that’s not related to psychology.

Maybe.

 

Nice Little Day

Yoga.

Writing.

Loads of writing, just my morning pages, but the last week was super busy with early starts every day at work–I worked seven hours of overtime last week at my nanny job, so I didn’t get to my morning writing every day (skipped one day completely) or I got just a half page or maybe a page in.

Today I wrote four pages.

It felt so good.

Nice breakfast.

Leisurely latte.

Laundry.

Little bit of grocery shopping.

Group supervision.

Group today was really small, so I got to do a super long check in and do work around three clients, I don’t typically get that much time, my group is usually six of us and sometimes I get maybe fifteen minutes, twenty max, today, loads of time.

It was really good and it was also a sweet group to be in today.

Lots of support around my clients.

And.

Oh.

So nice.

I had a number of clients cancel this week and next.

Normally I wouldn’t be too happy about so many clients cancelling, but since my solo supervisor is on vacation for the next two weeks I was looking at having to get extra coverage.

As it turns out with all my cancellations next week I won’t have to at all.

Thank God.

It’s not a huge deal, but I get a lot more from my solo supervisor than the woman I go to if he’s not available.

Not to say she doesn’t have value, it’s just different and the rapport is not as strong and well, I get more from working with my supervisor.

And frankly, it’s nice to have some time off next week from clients.

I will only have two sessions next week.

One client Tuesday evening and one client on Thursday.

That’s going to be a short week for me.

And then a four-day weekend.

I will enjoy that quite a bit.

After supervision today I went into the fray.

Yes.

I went downtown on the Saturday before Christmas.

It was lit.

But.

I knew where I was going and I had a plan.

I even found parking that wasn’t metered.

I usually try to duck into the lot behind the Mint, it’s infrequently open, but once in a while you can score.

I wasn’t able to, but I went around the block and on a hunch I turned down Jessie Street and there it was, a spot, no meter, and only a block and a half from the Sprint store.

Yup.

I went and got a new SIM card for my new Iphone 8 and it’s working great.

It took a few minutes, but that’s all I had to do was stand around and wait, the tech guy in the shop did it and I didn’t have to pay for anything, which was really nice.

Then.

Heh.

I went even further into the crazy.

But it felt a little exhilarating because I had a single destination point and a gift card to Sephora burning a hole in my pocket.

I left the Sprint Store on Mission, slid through the back door of Bloomingdale’s and strode right through the makeup and perfume counters, zipped through the Westfield Mall and zig zagged through the masses of people on Market Street.

The line for the cable car was crazy.

I went into Sephora and I did a swoop.

I pretty much knew what I wanted and went to the exact make up aisles I wanted to grab products from.

I’m a total lip gloss junkie.

I picked up one of the Sephora brand lip glosses that I use on the regular and three different shades of Anastasia of Beverly Hills–one bubble gum pink with high glitter, called Girly, I know, I know, I was totally channeling my thirteen year old adolescent self (even though I never wore makeup when I was a teenager, making up hard for lost time) and then a pretty Vintage Rose gloss and a subtle glitter called St. Tropez.

Yeah.

I know “subtle” glitter.

But it sort of is.

Heh.

I had enough left over on my gift card that I splurged on a box of pretty highlight illuminating powders.

Super pretty.

I love makeup.

I love dressing up.

I love that I looked super chic and urban in my all black leotard and boho black skirt and leggings, my hair up in a high messy French bun, and my rose velvet pink Tretorns.

I had a total moment of “I have arrived.”

Which is funny.

But.

There it is.

I had that moment.

I felt happy and light and airy walking out of the crowded store.

I did not have any issue with the crowds, I got back to my car, had plenty of time to sneak in a quick pop over to Whole Foods and pick up a couple staples and fill up my gas tank before heading over to the NOPA to get right with God.

That was great.

I made dinner plans with a friend for next Saturday, I got connected, I participated and it felt lovely.

Home and a hot bowl of chicken soup with brown rice, veggies, and Andouille sausage and folding all the laundry I did earlier.

A super sweet, chill, lovely little day.

Tomorrow should be much the same, relaxed, restful, happy.

I’m going to go to yoga again in the morning, have the same leisurely sort of morning I had today, meet with ladybug and roast a chicken.

I’m thinking I’ll go to the Inner Sunset and treat myself to a mani/pedi and some eyebrow waxing, a hot cafe au lait and maybe a book from Green Apple Books, pop into the spot on 7th and Irving and get right with God and call it a day.

I’m not worried about it being Christmas Eve, it’s just a lovely Sunday that I get to relax.

And Christmas.

Well, that will be chill too.

I’m going to go over to the East Bay in the afternoon and see a girlfriend and go to a movie matinée and get Chinese food.

Super simple.

And that’s it.

No pressure.

No expectations.

I’ve been given so much this holiday season.

I have nothing to ask for.

It’s been intense.

But it’s been a really lovely Christmas.

Anything else is just more sprinkles.

(or glitter)

On top of the frosting.

Of some very lovely cake.