Posts Tagged ‘Facetime’

That Was A Session

June 21, 2017

I’m a therapist.

It was so clear.

It was so obvious.

It was like getting whacked over the head.

You are a therapist.

I was in it with my client and although it was just a second session I could feel it happening, I could feel the alliance happening and who knows where it will go, but it’s a start.

I have clients.

Two this week.

Three next week.

And so it builds.

I was also a space cadet today.

I left my bag with my nanny shoes at work.

And when I realized I had already been on my way to the internship to see my client and I did not want to risk losing time to turn around and go back.

When I finished with the session I couldn’t remember if I had actually carried out the bag with me, having then left it on the sidewalk outside of my job.

Or.

If I had left it inside the house.

I called and text my boss but got no response.

Then I had a horrible vision of my bag, with my very expensive Dansko walking shoes, on the sidewalk and it getting scooped up by an entrepreneurial type in the neighborhood.

I debated going home, but I needed the piece of mind more than the extra few minutes I would have gotten at home.

So I zipped over to work and sure enough it was at the house, inside, thank God.

I thanked the dad, hopped back on my scooter and zoomed home.

It was a fast ride, the rush traffic having dissipated and in the end I was only home five minutes, maybe seven, past when I had predicted I’d be walking in.

It’s nice to be home.

I love my little studio.

Yes.

I would love to have more space.

I surely would.

However.

In this time in my life I am willing to be in a little space that holds me so well and is pretty and full of color and things to look upon that make me happy.

Speaking of which.

I expect to hear back soon from Cheap Pete’s.

The framing shop I took my two Paris prints to.

One a Marilyn Monroe by Phillip Hausman I got at the Jeu de Paume in Paris and the other a vintage Scandal sheet cover from a vendor at Clingancourt.

I am looking forward to adding them to my collection.

Although, truth be told, I don’t have much wall space left at all.

I have an idea to rearrange a few things and move around a couple of pieces and I think they will fit just fine.

And.

In other news.

I got my financial aid disbursement.

Hurrah!

So very happy.

I put half of it in savings immediately.

I will be using that money for my therapy costs as I move through my school program.

I will also be purchasing some new clothes for the doing of therapy.

I have a small wardrobe, but I realized that I need to expand a little, a few more pieces of professional clothing that I can interchange with my current wardrobe.

I was talking to my therapist this morning.

Yes.

The therapist has a therapist.

Duh.

Anyway.

Just that it’s nice having a change-up in my wardrobe and it helps me to be in the mindset.

Which is how I forgot my nanny shoes at work.

I took them off to put on my “therapist” shoes.

My new Fluevogs.

They are funky, but not too crazy and I do feel like someone else when I wear them.

It feels important to switch gears from nanny to therapist.

Even if the client would probably be completely happy with whatever I am wearing, well, perhaps, but really, it feels right for me.

It’s like pushing a reset button.

I carry myself different and I put on a different hat.

Or pair of shoes.

If the shoe fits.

Fucking wear that shit.

And I have totally lost my train of thought.

I am tired and just did a Facetime chat with a friend who’s been trying to catch up with me for a couple of weeks.

I am just starting to take clients, I can’t imagine how things are going to look when I’m back in school.

I probably won’t know what hit me.

But.

My god.

I am so grateful that I have started my internship now.

If I had to handle the training and the clients and the newness of it and juggle a full load of fall semester.

Um.

No.

Super grateful to have this time to get adjusted.

I also know that I won’t have to work as many hours.

Right now I’m working 40-41 hours a week as a nanny.

When school is in I’ll go back down to 35 and that will help.

Shit.

That’s five clients right there.

Add the three I have now and I could reasonably be doing the same amount of work that I am carrying now.

Of course.

It will be different.

I will also have to carry a full-time grad school load.

With all the reading and writing that entails.

Shh.

I tell myself.

Hush for now.

Don’t spoil the moment.

I had a good day.

I was a good nanny.

My charges loved on me, I got to hold the baby for a few hours while it slept, I made a dinner that the entire family raved about (pancetta spaghetti carbonara with julienned sugar snap peas, pan sautéed asparagus with shaved Parmigiano Reggiano, hearts of romaine salad with heirloom tomatoes, avocado, a soft-boiled wild hen egg and sprouted sunflower seeds), “Carmen, you are a REALLY good cook,” said the seven year old.

Thanks sugar.

I do love cooking for those I care about.

And.

I was a therapist.

A damned good one at that.

I think I have earned my cup of tea.

With that.

I call it a night.

Sleep well my friends.

Sleep well.

 

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On The Upswing

January 13, 2017

I still called in sick today.

But.

I am feeling better.

Better and better and better.

I am listening to music.

Always a good sign.

I took a hot shower, really good sign, I couldn’t fathom getting in the shower yesterday, the fact that I managed to brush my teeth yesterday felt like a hero move.

Today I brushed them and flossed them and hey, I might do that one more time before I go to bed.

I am feeling a bit sassier.

A bit sexier.

Doesn’t hurt that a lady took care of her lady needs.

I mean.

I had a window.

I took it.

Ahem.

I went grocery shopping.

Although, it was the biggest challenge of my day and I did have a few minutes in the store when I found myself just standing in an aisle wondering what the fuck I was there for and whether once I remembered it was going to be worth it to be in the aisle at all.

I missed a few things.

But I got most of what I needed to get and really it was enough.

It was enough.

I was scared to call in sick this morning, but I knew I was going to.

Especially as last night I lay in my pillows, propped three high so that I could breathe, and cried because the pain in my face-my cheeks were so sore from the sinus pain-was too much for me to go to sleep.

I was tired and I couldn’t sleep.

I finally fell asleep almost two hours after I had gone to bed.

No good.

I woke up feeling tentatively better, but in no way ready or prepared to get up and go to work.

I sent a message to the mom and the dad and said hey, I am calling in, I’m still too symptomatic, I am so very sorry.

They were very sweet.

The mom said no worries, rest and get better soon.

I turned off my phone, closed my eyes and slept for four hours.

Four hours.

And when I woke up I felt like I might actually be able to face the world.

Granted, it was 11:30 a.m.

The world had already been doing much its own thing for hours.

I stripped my bed and re-made it with fresh sheets and threw some laundry in the wash.

I made some coffee and oatmeal and returned a few messages.

I did my morning prayer and routine.

I sent out some gratitude lists to some folks and I did some writing.

Four pages.

And I knew I had it in me to get out to the grocery store.

Maybe not much further than that.

But that I could do.

I am grateful I did.

I am now set and stocked for the school weekend.

Yeah.

That.

Starts tomorrow.

Second semester of my second year of the three-year program.

Gett’er done.

I made a nice lunch.

I sat and did some reading.

And I got it all done.

All that I could get done.

I am still shy a couple of books for my Trauma class.

But I finished all the readings for my Couples Therapy Class and for my Community Mental Health class.

I am a little astounded that I got through all that reading.

Slow and steady and two days home sick.

I didn’t gel out in front of my laptop and watch a bunch of videos.

And because I got so much sleep today I didn’t feel the need to nap.

I mean.

I lay low.

I didn’t go out again after I went grocery shopping and the extent of my exercise was folding my laundry and making my bed and taking out the recycling.

I took the homeopath cold remedy medicine and sucked on a few zinc lozenges.

I read.

I chatted with a friend who later Facetimed me.

You know you’re friends when you accept a Facetime call in no make up and your hair in braids.

I mean at least my socks matched my pajama top and my pajama pants were right side in the entire day, so I suppose I was in a great position to take a call.

But it was super sweet to see her face and I’m excited to reconnect with all my school friends tomorrow.

I showed her the dozen roses I bought myself today at the store.

Buy your own damn flowers.

They are pretty soft pink roses tipped darker pink, long-stemmed and an apt dozen.

Because when you got twelve years (t-minus two hours and twenty-two minutes, unless I decided to run over to the 7-11 and score some crap.) you get yourself a dozen roses.

I wanted to wake up tomorrow on my anniversary with a pretty reminder of how far I have come and to acknowledge to myself that I am capable of giving myself everything I need.

I will gladly accept and take in your love but first I have to love myself enough to know that I am worthy.

I am worthy of your love.

As I am worthy of loving myself.

Such a fucking simple concept.

So hard to get.

“We’ll love you until you learn to love yourself,” he said to me, gripping my shoulders and looking at me with his sweet piercing blue eyes.

I believed him then.

I believe him now.

He has long passed, but his words remain with me, deeply entrenched into my being.

An affirmation of my basic humanity that I had so long stifled I didn’t even realize I had buried it.

There.

Right there.

And shoved it down and denied it and let it fester and rankle in the recesses of my heart where there should be light and not canker sores and sorrow.

The balm of that love settled upon me and care took me until I could take care of myself.

Until I could happily buy myself a dozen roses, cook myself a damn fine dinner (roasted chicken, hello and thank you) to take care of my sexual needs myself, to do my laundry, to comfort and soothe myself, to wear nice warm socks and drink tea that I like.

To listen to music I like.

Her good teeth smile was winding down.

Engines sputter ghosts out of gasoline fumes.

You had it but you sold it.

I am literally in tears of gratitude and joy.

The first time I heard this song.

True dreams.

True dreams.

True dreams.

Of Wichita.

Dancing in the living room at the house on Franklin Street.

My boyfriend had put the cassette in the boom box and when it came on I was floored I was sideways plastered with the glory of the words and how they resonated.

Listening to an updated version of it on the eve of this anniversary.

So many days and years and drunks and drugs later.

So many hang overs and calling in sick when I wasn’t really sick.

The bushes I threw up in before going into my lunch shift at Hawthorne Lane.

The demoralization of listening to what the line cooks side about what I was up to last night.

All the girls who were in relationships and said, “hey girl, take one for the team,” and then tell us all about it, in gory, glorious detail.

All those humiliations and stumbles.

And then the ultimate bottom and the climb up.

The long, slow, stupid, terrifying climb out.

Into the sunshine.

Blinding and overwhelming.

Held and taken care of and carried.

To this moment.

Full of light and love and music and joy.

My musical hero singing to me on the stereo.

A man I met in person and got to talk to and hang out with in someone’s kitchen this past September.

No biggie.

Because that’s my life now.

Full of surprises and insights and gifts.

Dozens of gifts.

Too many to list or count.

But I hold them all here.

In my heart.

Which is so much bigger than I ever knew.

Full of love for you.

For of love for me.

Seriously.

I let you love me until I learned to love myself.

I did it.

I really.

Really.

Did.

 

 

Girl Got Busy

June 6, 2015

Hella busy.

Like.

Busier than I so expected, but all good things.

Coffee dates.

Skype dates.

Doing the deal.

Hanging with a friend.

Eating some fancy food.

Shaking and going and doing and whoa.

Wasn’t I just wondering what I was going to be doing this weekend?

Yeah.

Now I’m wondering when I’m going to go grocery shopping and make food for next week.

I don’t have one date this weekend.

I have two.

One off of Facebook and one from Match.com.

Match is, so far, slightly better than OkStupid, I’m seeing some guys that I didn’t see on OkStupid and also that there seems to be an easier way of interacting with the site, but I have to say, it needs an overhaul, a big facelift for sure.

I know it’s been around for something like 20 years, but it’s time for it to get a better interactive feel.

Of course, I am only going to be on it for three months–I got the basic plan and that’s the shortest time you can commit to.

I give it 90 days.

And I have a date.

A good date, well, he looks good on paper (internet) and we have a lot in common, one big important thing that I was happy to confirm today, and we’re going to meet up tomorrow after I see my person in the Inner Sunset and get right with God.

Being girly I am a bit bummed that I won’t have time to do my nails before seeing him, but I just don’t have the time to squeeze that in too.

At least I don’t think so, I could manipulate my schedule a tiny bit in the morning, we shall see.

I have to get up and shower and I have a FaceTime date with the folks I’m heading out to Burning Man with to nanny for before I head out into the world.

Plus.

I’m not going to ride my bike.

Which means navigating MUNI and all that stuff.

Anyway.

I’ve got stuff happening and that is fun.

And I am grateful for it.

I like to be busy, I’m not so good at the down time.

I know there are times when I can get too busy and I know how to balance that.

This weekend is full, but not too busy.

I will have pockets of down time to take care of the things that need to be taken care of and I will have fun gallivanting about the city.

Inner Sunset.

Tendernob.

Possibly Noe Valley.

I may rearrange my morning a teeny tiny bit and have to cover ground in the evening and head up to Noe Valley.

It’s been a hot second since I have been there, so that could be fun.

Fun being the operative word.

I am going to have a fun weekend, I’m going to celebrate my life, I’m also going to celebrate that my FAFSA is now finally complete.

Apparently when I was in Chula Vista and trying to figure it out at my grandma’s place I did not save it properly and I received a notification this afternoon that I had to resign the damn thing and submit the correction correctly or my school wasn’t going to be able to access the information.

Oh.

For Pete’s sake.

Again?

I tried to do it at work on my break, but the screen on my phone is not the screen on my laptop and it was too much magnifying and searching and scrolling and my fingers were too big and fuck this man.

It can wait.

I forget that sometimes.

There are no emergencies.

Well.

Almost none.

There are infrequent times when I have to make a decision quickly and usually I regret how fast I move, if I pause and respond rather than react, it is usually a better outcome for me.

I realized as I was trying again, this time from the side lines at UCSC Mission Bay pool (where, ahem, I felt like a total ass, I had my swim suit, top, but not my swim suit bottom.  I couldn’t get in the pool with the mom and the boys this afternoon.  I was half annoyed with myself, I got up early to shower and shave and wore my hair pulled back just so I could get in the pool and now my hair is fucked up and I’m not getting in and grr, I got to rewash and do my hair tomorrow, but yay, I don’t have to get in the pool and be wet the rest of my Friday), that there really was no emergency.

It’s Friday.

No financial aid decisions were going to be made at 4p.m. on a Friday.

I can get home, calmly open up my FAFSA and submit, correctly, the correction.

Which I did and now it’s done and hopefully I will hear back next week in regards to what my financial aid package will be for school.

And yes.

i admit it.

I have thought about spending the money on not so school type things.

Burning Man supplies.

A new scooter.

A trip to Hawaii, I really want to go knowing a little more about my background and family I am quite eager to visit the islands.

A new mattress for my bed.

What I’ll end up doing is the same thing that I did when I was in school before.

I will pay my tuition, buy my books and any school supplies I need (oh my god!  I have to do back to school shopping!), and then pre-pay my rent.

That’s typically what I did when I was in undergrad.

Then the money that I made from working could be earmarked toward daily living expenses, groceries, transportation, etc.

I think I may have done a little traveling with some of the student loan money I received, I did go to Puerto Rico for a friend’s wedding in Old San Juan, and I went to Boston to see a girlfriend graduate from law school (I don’t remember much of Boston, I drank enough for all the celebrants) and I sunk some money into maintaining my car I had at the time.

I get ahead of myself.

The only thing that is important is done for the day.

And now it’s time to wrap this up.

I still have laundry to do and a few things to attend to this evening before getting up and getting going.

I got dates to go on people!

The weird is about to get real.

I shall keep you posted on all the fun.

Promise.

I won’t get too busy that I don’t blog.

Well, unless I get to busy getting busy.

Ahem.


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