Today I Got Pissed

It started out a little off kilter as I missed a calendar alert to be in on a Zoom meeting with some of my cohort and my committee chair and the TA to my Methods class.

Thankfully I was up and puttering around and making breakfast when I noticed the incoming email from the TA as a reminder to get the call.

Shit!

Fortunately I was only two minutes late.

I have had homework on the back burner this week.

It’s time to move it up front.

I have a draft of a large, very important paper due in tomorrow for this class.

I am so grateful that last week, before all the crazy shelter in place hit, I worked a lot on the paper and really turned in a polished draft to my peer reviewers.

Who did not really review it.

Guys!

Ugh.

Granted both my reviewers said it looked great and they both said, “Wow!” so that was nice, but no comments, no questions, no observations about how to make it stronger.

I know my TA, she is going to find something and kick my ass and make me do a bunch of rewriting.

Which is fine, but I also don’t want to send in a draft that I have not laid eyes on in a week.

Tomorrow I throw myself back into school mode.

I have to.

I actually will have a fairly busy week this week.

I have 22 client sessions, meetings (FaceTime) with three sponsees, and homework due for all three of my classes.

I’m not super stoked for shelter in place, but I am not going to have any issues filling the time.

I’m actually a bit happy to be back here blogging on the daily again.

It feels real nice.

Really, really nice.

I have missed it.

The processing my day at the end of the day while I listen to music.

I have definitely been listening to lots of music and taking dance breaks to move my body around.

Which I needed to today after making my way out into the world.

I helped a friend out who doesn’t have a car and ran her to get groceries and supplies.

On my way I drove past Ocean Beach.

And that was when I got pissed.

There were so many people at the beach!

What the fuck people.

SERIOUSLY.

This is not a fucking tornado drill.

Get your dumb asses off the beach.

Get your GROUPS OF PEOPLE the fuck home.

I LIVE HERE!

This is my neighborhood.

A few days ago I was making my way to the beach and thought there were going to be days of long, quiet walks around the neighborhood.

Then yesterday I noticed a really big up tick in the number of people there and today, fuck.

It actually freaked me out.

I live in a quiet residential neighborhood, but when it’s nice in the city the beach gets packed.

Today was nice.

Yeah.

It wasn’t as packed as say a regular Saturday with nice weather, but it really was overcrowded considering the situation.

I wanted to yell out my window, “go the fuck home.”

My friend in Spain told me that she can only go outside to walk to the grocery store, no where else.

And.

That all the beaches are closed.

All of them.

I sort of want that now.

I really thought to myself, I should call the fucking cops.

I should tip off the news.

I should mind my own business.

I cannot afford to get worked up over this.

And I can be the change I want to see.

I can avoid the beach.

There are other places I can walk to be outside.

I can also sit out on my deck and get outside time that way.

So.

That’s what I did today.

And a lot of dancing, which felt really good.

Tomorrow I need to stay on schedule, get up, shower, be mindful and do my morning routine, do some writing, go to the laundry mat (ugh, my one thing about my current situation that I just do not like, I have no laundry here that I can access, I have to go to a laundry mat, but I won’t sit inside the mat, I will walk while my laundry is washing and drying), Facetime sessions with lady bugs, then work on that paper.

And walks away from the beach for a little while.

It’s not worth getting angry about.

I need to stay calm, cool, collected

I have, and I am lucky to have it, a busy week ahead.

Be in good health and take gentle care.

And.

Avoid the beach.

Seriously.

Turn On The Heat

It’s cold out there.

The rains are coming.

It’s November.

Hello.

The chill in the air, with the almost full moon rising, was spooky and intense, bright and crisp, fall is here, winter is coming.

I hopefully will be getting a car soon, as I noted that there is rain in the near forecast.

I don’t have the time to do it before the rains start and I have some homework yet to do, but I’m pretty decided and as soon as I have the down time I will be getting my butt to a dealership in the East Bay.

Soon.

Not soon enough to save me from some more cold scooter rides home, or wet rides home.

I am still debating riding in to work tomorrow on my scooter, even though there is some rain in the forecast–it’s off and on and not 100% rain all day.

There are windows of time when it’s not raining and they both fall around when I would be going into work and when I’d be coming home.

I get to come home early tomorrow, both of my clients cancelled and instead of trying to squeeze in a consult, like I did tonight when my client cancelled, I decided to take the night off and just come home.

Take a hot shower.

Wash the week off of me.

Cook myself a nice dinner.

Be cozy.

Reflect on my life and the last six months.

My God.

The last six months.

So much love.

So much change.

Some quiet and private.

Some big and public.

Lots of internal change.

Loads.

And just extraordinary amounts of gratitude for where I am in my life and the people I get to spend time with.

I am so lucky.

If the rain stays away and the cloud cover is not to bad, it might be a great night to go down to the beach for the full moon.

It will be full at midnight tomorrow, but I suspect that it will look full when it rises, I thought it was full tonight as it was coming up.

I had to check online to see when it was complete.

Tomorrow.

Midnight.

The witching hour.

Magic.

Love.

The ocean.

Dancing on the beach.

Wrapping myself up in love.

The full moon reminding me of you.

Of promise.

Of joy.

Of laughter that falls from my mouth.

How sustained I am and how loved.

My life is extraordinary, even when I am tired, like I was today and a little bit in H.A.L.T.

Hungry.

Angry.

Lonely.

Tired.

I was hungry since I didn’t have the best lunch, not a bad lunch, no not at all, just not the lunch I’d planned, as the container that my chicken soup was in broke in my scooter basket and I had chicken soup all over my school books, shoes, and paperwork.

Sigh.

Tired.

As I went to bed late.

Not horribly late, just later than normal and up a little earlier to help the mom out at work by coming in a half hour early.

Lonely.

Well.

Sometimes a girl gets lonely.

I was listening to Coleman Hawkins today, late afternoon, at work, the mom had all the kids and I was at the house waiting for an important delivery and doing food prep and cleaning and household stuff.

The music moved me.

The view moved me.

I danced by myself.

Dreamy and slow, folding the laundry, looking out the window towards downtown San Francisco, dreaming of being in another’s arms.

Angry.

Well.

It passed.

But it was there for a little bit.

I got boonswoggled into a playdate/babysitting gig, without compensation.

I felt manipulated, annoyed, angry, pissed off, victimized and aware that, in the passive aggressive text, I had been played.

Or so it felt.

And I knew that I was tired and I knew that I was lonely and I knew that I was hungry, so I prayed and asked for it to be removed and I asked myself what my fear was, and I asked if I needed to manipulate through withholding my honest response, and I asked myself to see the situation with perspective and wait for clarification before getting more pissed off.

Which I’m very happy for.

I also had a snack.

Which fucking helped.

And I took some ibuprofen, too much carrying the baby this week in the carrier, which is how I started out my day, so I was a bit sore and tender all day too, which helped.

Then I had a talk with the mom and we divided and conquered and, yes, I will, in a way be baby sitting–I’m just going to call it an extended play date, but it is for a charge I have already had, who I love so dearly that I am more than happy to help and that the mom is taking two of her three kids, so that I will just have two to take care of, instead of the four I thought I was going to be saddled with, and it doesn’t happen til next Wednesday and fuck if I’m going to be upset about it and carry it forward.

Thank God for spot check inventory.

Also.

Thank God for getting home and making myself a nice hot meal, pan-fried Japanese sweet potato with garlic and pulled meat from a roasted chicken with melted butter.

That along with turning up the heat in my studio and realizing it’s Friday tomorrow and I have wonderful plans for it and I’ll get a paycheck and my health insurance stipend and really, there are no problems.

None.

Just love.

Abundance.

Perspective.

Joy.

And the nearly, almost, not quite, but soon to be.

Full moon.

And It Was A

Good day.

It was.

Yes.

There was sunshine.

Oh sunshine.

How I adore you.

It won’t be sunny much more this week, one more day, tomorrow, then, yes, fuck, six days in a row of the wet stuff.

Sigh.

Oh well.

At least I had today.

And really.

What more could I ask for.

Just for today.

Just for today I will be happy.

And I was.

I got a few things done before I headed out to work, some organizing, some work on my school stuff, some writing.

I gassed up the scooter.

$1.16 to top her off.

hahahaha.

Ah.

I love that.

I love going into the 76 station on Lincoln and LaPlaya and handing the cashier a bunch of change with a great big smile.

Feels pretty freaking good that.

Zoom zipped to work.

I got there early enough that I was able to check in with a few people on the phone and just make sure my head was on nice and straight and ready for all things Monday.

I hit work and was ready to go.

Today was my first day feeling how it will be for the majority of my time, or at least how I envision it to be.

The dad has gone back to work full-time and it was me, the mom, the baby.

I checked in with mom, got the low down, got organized and then hopped in the car with her to Noe Valley, where I got dropped off to do errands and get my way back to the house on my own time.

Mom was heading to her office with the baby and I was on my own.

I cannot express how much joy that brings me.

To have some autonomy, to get to run errands in the sunshine, to go grocery shopping and help with the dry cleaning.

I topped off the Clipper Card (the MUNI pass for the buses and trains) at the Walgreens and got to pick up a few things that I was needing for the house.

I was able to also swing into another little store on my way back to the house and pick up a sweatshirt.

My Bicycle Coalition sweatshirt has been pretty battered and the zipper the past few weeks has just gotten worse and worse.

I suppose I could have replaced it, but it was pretty beat, I’ve had it for over five years and worn it pretty non-stop, when I went to zip into it this morning on my way to work, the zipper split again and I was like, fuck it, time to replace it.

So I got a cool black hoodie with white draw strings and a white outline of Sutro Tower by the company Cotton Basics, a local clothing company out of Oakland.

I like to buy local stuff whenever I can.

Then.

A quick pop into Whole Foods.

The mom had asked me to make dinner and had pulled out some chicken breasts from the freezer.

“Make whatever you want,” she said, “here’s some cash, get whatever you need at the market.”

Dude.

Carte blanche is so nice.

Seriously.

Not that I went nuts.

I didn’t need to.

The family has a really nice stocked pantry and they buy the good stuff, organic, local, upscale stuff.

I picked up some crimini mushrooms, some tarragon, and a few others odds and ends.

This evening I made the family tarragon chicken with crimini mushrooms in a cream sauce with rice and pan seared brown buttered brussels sprouts.

“Carmen!  You are the best cooker ever!” My four-year old little lady charge told me, jumping up from the dinner table as I was getting ready to leave and rushing over to throw herself in my arms.

“I love your food, so good!”

That made me so happy to hear.

I know.

Silly, right?

But not so.

I put my heart into my cooking and to be able to actually cook the way I used to, even though I don’t eat it, is super gratifying.

I’m sure there will be times I will eat what I make for the family, but I was having a good time making what I made and I wanted them to know how much I appreciate them by making them good food.

I love that they all sit down to eat dinner together.

It’s simple and basic and so sweet to see a family still do that, sit and enjoy a meal together.

I felt needed and appreciated today.

I also have really been enjoying my time with the mom, I feel like she has become not just an employer, but a friend.

And I love, love, love.

LOVE.

That she’s talking about having me for the long-term.

Like.

Four years.

Like.

Having job security all the way through my school program, what a gift.

Such a gift.

Granted, it’s only been a month, but in that month I have felt taken care of, appreciated, excited, and acknowledged.

I like, no, I love, that I am getting outside more and being more active is a help too.

I ran up and down the big hill to their house twice today, ran races with my charges when I picked them up from school, was in the fresh air and the sunshine.

Yeah, like I said yesterday, I have put on a size since I stopped riding my bike five days a week.

But.

That’s ok.

My body is changing.

Today it is just perfect.

Maybe it’s not what I want it to be, but it serves me, takes care of me, carries around my brain with all its sickness and idiocy, does all that I ask it to do.

I’m in grad school, I work full-time, I need the extra time that having the scooter gives me, one day I won’t.

And when that happens I can go to yoga more or I can ride my bike more or I can swim.

Just because I’m not the “ideal size” doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me.

I have the exact body I am supposed to have and I am grateful for it.

Grateful, happy, content, cozy.

And.

When I got home from school I had a package in the mail from my dear friend in New York.

He’s been working on a movie now for a little while and it’s almost ready to be released and he’s selling t-shirts to raise money for the film.

It’s called: This Too, Shall Go Up In Flames.

I stripped out of my shirt and put on the t-shirt.

It’s a little big, I ordered it when I was feeling “fat” and got a bigger size than I should have, but fuck it, I love it and it can be a night-shirt or maybe I’ll have it taken in.

Do they take in t-shirts?

Who cares.

It’s an awesome shirt and I am excited to support a friend’s endeavor.

It’s pretty fucking cool.

It’s been a pretty fucking good day.

Not bad for a Monday.

Not bad at all.