Posts Tagged ‘exhausted’

Big Day

November 7, 2017

I got to work and walked in and sighed.

I already had a super busy day and I was tired before I even walked into the door at work.

Not in a bad way, just in a sort of thrown into unexpected places way and reflecting on what had transpired in the time before I got to work.

Super intense meeting with my supervisor and a lot of deep work around a specific client, who I saw this evening and got to apply all the things that I had worked on with my supervisor.

Which was really fulfilling and also a little exhausting.

And exhilarating too.

I felt like I was really being a good therapist and that my client was making some amazing headway.

I feel better and better the more I get to see my clients and learn about them and those that show up consistently and let me bear witnesses to their growth is really an amazing thing to witness.

At times exhausting, the work is challenging, but as I expressed to my boss today I am so grateful for it.

I didn’t even see my boss until after 4p.m. today, I was at work at the house, picking up my charge from school, and she was off and running her Monday as well.

I think we were both pretty tired from the day, but it was good to connect with her.

She’s great to work for and super flexible with my schedule.

Which is good since I’ll be going in late one more time next Monday.

I’ve been asked to come in again next week to work further on the lecture series, “People Who Usually Don’t Lecture.”

The women that are running the project have a certain vision and they have produced so many of this lecture series they really have a clarity about what needs to come across and what resonates with the audience.


Although all the work I did on the narrative was not for naught, ugh, I still am going to have to re-write it.

I could heavily edit what I wrote, but I think a fresh rewrite with the direction they want from me will make it a far stronger piece.

I have a very clear idea what they want and I know how to write it and I have the opening line in my head so I know where it will go.

Sometimes, most times, all I need is that opening line or thought, the idea opens the door, I walk in and then I start describing what I see, it’s like walking into a warm room with a rag hook rug on the wood floor, a fire burning in a stove, a rocking chair with a soft throw on the arm and a pillow against the back.

I just need to settle into that chair and write what I see on the walls, tell the story in the pictures I see.

There I am running away from home to San Francisco at the ripe age of 29.

What happens.

Here’s a snap shot of DNA Lounge.

Here’s a picture of me in the back patio of The End Up after having been up all weekend.

All the things and crazy dark adventures, a Polaroid on a push pin board.

That time I made out with my best friends boss at The Elbow Room in the photo booth.

And forgot that I had a strip of photos of us kissing.

It fell out of my wallet when I was looking for something, and my friend picked it up.

“Oh my God!  You made out with STEVE!  YOU MADE OUT WITH MY BOSS?!  He’s gay!”

He wasn’t that gay that night.

Here’s another one of a night at Bruno’s on Mission Street, all dressed up for Halloween and getting ready for a night out on the town when my dealer calls and hey, he just got out of 850 Bryant (the jail here in San Francisco) and how much do I want?



I’ll start with three grams and go from there.

Hung over.

Cracked out.

Dancing at strange parties with strange people and all the misadventures there of.

The producers wanted a little more of the nitty-gritty of my using and then what happened.

I had put too much of an ellipses in the narrative and it made it seem like I did a line of blow and then suddenly got sober.

They wanted to hear more about the despair.




It gets your attention, and it provides the vehicle to show how far I’ve come, the things I went through, and who I am.

They also wanted me to talk a little bit more about my nannying.

And what it means to work with children.

“Oh, I think I know what you mean,” I said to the woman speaking to me, “that I get to give the kind of love to a child that I never had for myself growing up.”

She teared up.



Let me pull your heartstrings.

Let me show you how resilient I am.

It’s not necessarily a drama play, it’s what really happened, but I have ten minutes to cover all the things and they wanted to sharpen certain points for power, so that it lands with the audience and connects them to me and my story.


That’s just going to have to sit on the back burner for a little while and percolate.

I have a full client load this week, therapy tomorrow morning before work, group supervision mid-week, when I normally don’t have it until Saturday–but I’ll be in class Saturday so I have to do it this Wednesday, and yeah, that, school, it’s a school weekend.

No wonder I walked into work and already felt exhausted.


It won’t be that bad.

It’s not that bad.

And I am grateful I get to do this project, it is nice to be wanted, it’s nice to know that I have been chosen because I have something powerful to share and that I am someone who knows how deliver a story.

So that’s what I’m going to do.

But the re-write has got to wait until Sunday after I get out of class, I just don’t see getting to it before then.

I still have reading for class I need to attend to, and well, the week full of stuff.

Grateful that I have pockets of respite and some lovely things planned too, that have nothing to do with work and school and clients.

A girl needs a little fun too.

Especially when there’s so much else to attend to.

I need to let myself let loose a little too.

All work and no play makes me a very dull girl.

And I’m so not dull.


Tired and Teary

July 8, 2014

My descriptor to my boss today when she asked me how it all went.

Like beyond tired and teary.

And yes.

I cried in front of the boss lady.


But it was true.

“You look exhausted,” my friend said to me tonight with some concern in his voice, “go home, eat something, get into bed and sleep.”

I will.

After I finish my blog.

I am a masochist like that.

I like writing my blog though, it feels good to process through what happened on the day and really, it wasn’t that bad, it was just long and it was my first day back, and I know it will get better.

Tomorrow I will also not go as far a field.

I took the boys in the morning to Golden Gate park.

It was too far.

Which I did not realize until I was trying to get back from the park and I just got slower and slower and slower and it seemed interminable, I was never going to make it back.

I also had stopped to pick up some groceries at Whole Foods for the family.

What I am seeing, in hindsight, is that I should have just gone grocery shopping, then kept the boys at the house the entire day.

However, there is major construction underway and I wanted to be out of the noise and dust for as long as I possibly could.

I was up and on my feet much more than I have been in weeks and I just got punked out.

It was great to have the boys, though, the smiles and hugs and kisses and the mom’s were so pleased to get my photos.  I got the impression that the nanny they were using interim was not the same as me and that’s a nice thing to know.

To be wanted and acknowledged.

I was also updated on my imminent Burning Man job.

My boss went ahead and put me on her team officially.

My title?

“Not Your Nanny”.

My playa name on my laminate: “Mary Fuck*n Poppins”.

Photo from the front row of the Moby show that I went to at Lighting in a Bottle.

I’ll have the same perks that I have had in the past and will be camped again off the 9 o’clock keyhole by Ranger Station Tokyo.

In case you want to come by for a visit.

I’ll be in the little Bambi Airstream again.

I will be up and ready for the event.

I will.

I will be up and ready for tomorrow too.

I got up this morning at 6:30 a.m. so that I would not have to rush.  I took my time, made my bed, got dressed, prayed, read some stuff, got right with God, made breakfast, even had time for a second cup of coffee while I wrote three and a half pages long hand in my notebook.

I even took out the trash and the compost.

I was raring to go.

I made it to work on the N-Judah with ten minutes to spare and window shopped a few minutes in Cole Valley before climbing the stairs to the house.

It was like I had never left.

I fell right back into my groove with my boys.

The only difference being that the littlest one is full on walking and climbing and is at that point in his development where he is all go all the time and does not listen so much to stop or wait, he is too eager to run on ahead and explore.

Which is fantastic.


I can’t run.

I had gotten both the boys out of the stroller and let them loose in the big soccer fields before we got to the children’s play area at the Koret Playground, over in middle of the park by the carousel, and the littlest would just start going in a direction and not stop.

I know this stage pretty well, though, and had a card up my sleeve.

Or snacks, as the case may be.


I would shake the container and he would come tumbling back.

Really, it was rather cute and I spent a lot of time standing in between the two boys out in the big grassy green field shaking a container of puffs while one ran one way and the other ran the opposite direction.

I will say this much, the day went by pretty quick.

It takes me much longer to walk, clean, prep, and engage with the boys.

It felt like it took me double time.

But in reality I was not slowed down that much, but I was always a bit behind my schedule.

Lunch did not happen until almost one p.m.

Naps ran late.

And by the time I did have them in their stroller to go out I knew I could not muster up the energy to go very far.

I had just enough chutzpah in me to make it two blocks before turning around and keeping my fingers crossed that they would both fall asleep.

And miracle of miracles.

They did.

I was granted a reprieve.

I don’t know that I could have made it through with out it.

I got an hour and ten minutes of undisturbed down time.

I talked to my best friend from Wisconsin, whom I never have that kind of opportunity to speak with at the time of day she called and it was awesome to have a minute to throw my ankle up on a chair and chat with her.

Missing her and her boys already.

I also had some tea and I flipped through a magazine and slowly picked up the toys the boys had tossed about during their play time.

And now I know.

I can make it through nine hours of nanny life.

Tomorrow will be more of the same, except that I will stay closer to the house.

I may go out to the park in the afternoon, but only if I feel up to it.

I will stick close to home base and play in the back yard and let the boys caper about in the nursery.

I will take it easy.

I will rest.

I will follow my friends suggestion.

And with that.

This tired nanny is going to make some tea and retire for the evening.

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