Posts Tagged ‘financial fear’

And It’s Here

August 25, 2017

Holy shit.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow is my first day of classes in my third, and last, year of my Masters in Counseling Psychology program.

Fuck.

How did it get to be time already.

It feels hyper surreal.

On one hand I feel like I was just in class last weekend.

On the other it feels like years and ages.

I also have a better sense of what I’m walking into with my schedule as I have spent some time tonight doing more reading for class and looking over my syllabi for the classes I have tomorrow.

I only have two.

Which is a change from previous years when I had three classes a day on Fridays.

Of course.

I have practicum, which is the difference.

And beginning in September, basically after I get back from Burning Man, I will be seeing clients on Fridays.

And.

Sigh.

Saturdays too.

I have a few clients scheduled for my first weekend back from playa.

Mostly to make up for the sessions I will have missed by being out-of-town.

I was pleased and flattered when two of my clients asked me to make up sessions with them, they didn’t want to go two weeks without seeing me.

That was nice to hear.

I am doing a good job.

Not the best, I am far from the best, but I’m doing a decent job and I know that I am making headway with my clients and that they are getting something out of the relationship, enough so that they want to continue seeing me and wanting to make up for the lost sessions.

I am grateful for the work.

It is work.

Don’t get me wrong, but it is also such rewarding work.

And I am also happy that I am continuing to learn and make connections and see things, that the work generates constant learning is amazing.

I am not in a cookie cutter job, I am getting to constantly and consistently learn.

No better thing that.

I shall spend my whole life learning and still feel that there is so much more to know and learn and so much growth yet to be had.

Perhaps on this plane.

Perhaps in another.

I don’t know what or where any of this is going.

I just know that I want, with sincerest passion and longing, to be true to this moment, the one I am in, that in this moment there is constant love, consistency and self-awareness.

I am the best person I know how to be.

In this moment.

It will change.

I will have my failings.

I will freak out.

I will get scared.

I did today when I inadvertently flipped open Facebook, which I am less and less on, I just don’t have the time or bandwidth for it, to see a response to a post I had put up about having found a ride to Burning Man and how I was happy for it.

The response was from the woman I am going with.

And it should have been a direct message to me.

But.

Nope.

Of course it wasn’t, it was a post displayed for the entire forum to see, hundreds of folks.

I didn’t respond because it wasn’t the right thing to do and I felt instant, I mean, instant resentment.

Don’t fucking change things up on me now!

I am inflexible when I am in fear.

I want what I want and I want it the way that I want it.

Got that?

Good.

So, basically, do it my way.

Damn it.

But no.

My ride has some ideas, some thoughts, some desires to do it her way.

And as such.

Wanted to know if I would be open to renting a mini van.

Oh.

Well.

Fuck my life.

I had a fucking reservation made on my own to rent a god damn vehicle, a reservation I cancelled after securing the ride with the woman whom I am going with.

If I wanted to pay for a fucking rental I would have gone up on my god damn own.

This is my thinking walking down the hill on Chenery, on the way to go get my charge some snacks at the Glen Canyon Market and then go to the park at the rec center.

I almost said it out loud.

And no four-year old needs to hear my profanity.

I was, when I am in resentment it usually stems from fear–I’m not getting what I want or I am afraid I’m going to lose something–full of angry profanity and resentment.

I took a deep breath.

I did not respond on Facebook.

I paused.

I breathed some more.

I swore in my head some more.

Then I just got into, this is what’s happening and this is what is going on and I can accept the situation or I can rant like a maniac.

Do I want to be happy?

Or.

Right.

Right!

Just kidding.

Sigh.

I wish.

No.

I want to be happy.

And if my elderly lady stateswoman wants to rent a mini van, well so be it.

I let a lot of time go and I said some prayers and I did some spot check inventory in my mind and I realized a bunch of stuff.

I have a job to attend to.

I am with my charge and I have to go get my other charge across town.

I am in a pretty park with a sparkling water in my hand, I am outside, the grass is green, the pollinating plants smell intoxicating, the clover especially, and I am alive to have all these feelings.

I have the opportunity to accept what is going on and I prayed for guidance to take the next action in front of me.

So when the text came in from my ride I was able to respond, not react, and take a phone call.

Oh.

I still got flustered on the phone.

I had an idea of what I was going to spend on getting to the damn event and now I was facing having to pay more and I felt a bit in a bind, a bit out of control, like, I don’t have any other way at this time to get myself out there and I have a three-day weekend of school and the rest of the work day to get through.

I can’t fathom trying figure out other means of transport.

I told her I was willing to consider it.

I asked what she wanted by way of compensation.

She gave me, what I considered a vague, cop-out response, but, ultimately, the freedom to decide what I felt comfortable contributing.

I had a number in my head.

I paused for a while after getting off the phone.

I know I can afford it.

I am willing to pay more.

I don’t want to think about it.

I have other things happening before it.

I want to show up alive and present and enjoy every beautiful moment of my weekend.

So.

Whatever vehicle shows up for me on Sunday.

Well.

That’s the one I’m going in.

And whatever the cost.

Well.

That’s what I will be paying.

I’m just surrendering to what’s happening and letting God have it.

God always does in the end anyway.

I get to have this experience.

And like so many others.

I am sure there will be spiritual growth.

And.

Love.

I am certain of that.

There will be love.

There always is.

Nerves And Rain

January 2, 2017

Great combination.

I am so not looking forward to starting the new job tomorrow.

I mean.

I am.

It’s going to be great, I really like the family, the contract looks great, I’m happy to be of service and I know I will be needed, and well, being needed is nice.

But.

Ugh.

The commute is not going to be pretty.

It’s about six miles away.

Oh.

I know, I need to shut up, but it’s six miles up and down a lot of hills and I can’t quite figure out the best route.

I have mapped it a number of times and I have also gone to the house once, it’s just a bit locationally challenged.

The most direct route is going to take me up and over the middle of some really big hills and it’s supposed to rain.

For the next two fucking weeks.

I don’t know when that shit happened.

I’ve been randomly paying attention to the upcoming weather in preparation and yes, there was rain in the forecast a few times, one day on Monday and then it switched, to Tuesday.

The last time I checked, Tuesday, some rain, but the rest of the week sunny, cold, yes, but no rain.

Then this morning.

I looked.

And.

Fuck me.

Rain.

Two weeks solid not a single day with a break.

I am chilled just thinking about it and I am not over this stupid cold.

I know that dancing and going out last night pushed it a little bit, but I just wanted to be out in the world.

I skipped yoga today, took it really easy, went and did the deal for an hour and did some grocery shopping.

One load of laundry and some house cleaning.

I didn’t make it a big day.

Of course, I also did not get a full nights sleep.

Which truth be told, I’m not horribly upset about.

It will help me fall asleep tonight.

I’m back to working 9a.m.-5p.m.

At least that’s my start hours for this week.

I’ll be flexible with the family, but it does appear that I will go back to working a more typical work week.

What’s nice about that as well is that it will mesh nicely with my school schedule.

When I’m in classes I start at 9 a.m. and end at 8p.m.

So at least the two will sync up a lot better than the last three semester’s have for me when I was working 1 p.m. to 8 p.m.

Morning is going to come sooner and I will be going to bed much, much earlier than I have in some time.

I’m good with this.

I know it will take a little getting used to, but I think, it will be nice to have a more regular schedule.

Shit.

Ha.

It sounds like it started raining right now.

Fuck.

It’s raining.

It was clear an hour ago, I mean, no clouds.

Ugh.

I have done a few things.

I have my lunch and dinner packed, I’ve got coffee ready, I’ve got my nanny shoes in my basket liner bag (I have a pair of Mary Jane clogs that I call my nanny shoes, that I typically leave at the home of my employers so that I can have clean shoes in their house) I have a plan of action.

I set my alarm a little earlier than I will typically.

I am going to ride in the rain.

The one thing I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to do, but it seems like that’s what’s on the table.

I could order a car.

I suppose.

Public transportation is out of the question.

According to maps it will take a half hour for me to get from here to there on my scooter.

Add in some rain and morning rush commute and I’m giving myself 45 minutes.

I doubt very much that it will take that long, but I would so much rather give myself the padding of a few extra minutes than to be late.

Especially on my first day.

Gah.

Maybe I bite it on the financial end and take cars this week.

MUNI will get me there, but it will take anywhere from an hour and a half to an hour 45 on the trains.

I am just so not willing to let go three hours of my day to commuting.

No.

I’m really on the fence.

Cold and wet and slippery riding.

Or.

Dry and safe and cozy, but expensive over the course of the week.

Grr.

I could afford it.

I just have other things I would rather spend my money on.

Then again, being safe is nice.

It really is.

Maybe I take a car to work and bite it on the train coming home.

I have a little bit of padding between work and doing the deal.

That’s the other thing that I am trying to figure out, even though I know that figuring it out might drive me bats and I would much prefer to not go bats my first week on the new job.

Where I’m going to do the deal and how am I going to fit yoga into the schedule.

I have tomorrow figured out.

If there wasn’t the rain I’d be smashing.

Work 9-5.

Do the deal 6-7.

Hit yoga 7:45-9pm.

Blog.

Fall out.

Repeat Tuesday and Wednesday.

Thursday I meet with my person at 5:15pm. and do the deal at 6:30p.m.

Which negates yoga.

Friday there’s not a class that fits no matter how much I would want to.

But.

I can keep my regular classes on the weekends.

So foreseeable, except when I am in class, I could get to the studio pretty conscientiously with the job.

Bollocks.

This is me trying to figure it out.

And really what I know is that this is me trying to manage my life so that I feel safe.

I’m scared.

It’s a new job.

My old job had its issues, but at least I knew what they were.

And I really do believe that the new job is a better fit, I do.

I’m just nervous.

Not knowing makes me nervous.

Change is good, I know this change is good, I’m just scared because I can’t see what it will look like and I want to be emotionally safe.

And I question myself riding my scooter when it’s raining and I’m nervous about my first day on the job.

Perhaps I shall just take a car.

Give myself the extra time in the morning and bring an umbrella and take the train home.

These are luxury problems, I remind myself.

My old go to is to say I don’t have the money, no, no, no.

But I will get a financial aid disbursement this month from school and I will be ok.

And this new job will be a few more hours and a little more money and I’m going to be doing my taxes early like I do.

I’m going to be fine.

I can afford a car.

I will take a car in the morning if it looks bad.

If it doesn’t, I will ride.

And whatever the weather, I’m going to be fine.

Hey!

I’m starting a new, awesome, good job tomorrow, I like the family, a lot, and there’s going to be a brand new baby.

Like literally, brand new.

This experience is a gift.

I know it.

I will get through the fear and the butterflies and just show up and be myself.

I’m always good enough.

Always.

I will be good enough tomorrow.

I swear it.

Whole Lot Of Running Around

September 14, 2013

With not much accomplished.

Is what today felt like.

I write and emphasize “felt”.

I actually had a pretty chill day when I sit back and reflect on it.

The bike ride this morning from the Sunset to the Mission was quite nice and I do like the Pan Handle part of the commute in which I am sailing along beneath the canopies of Eucalyptus trees and the fog is misty my cheeks.

I am sure there will be time when I forget the simple pleasure of this ride and it becomes a get me from point A to point B sort of ride, but today, the novelty of it was still in force and I enjoyed the hell out of it, not trying to race to my destination, just floating along the path.

I got to the Mission early and locked up at the office on Valencia Street to get a message that the meet up had been changed to my friend’s house, which was fantastic as I was looking forward to meeting the new puppy in the household.

Such a sweet mop of a dog!

She’s like some floppy muppet, a golden doodle, and she came tumbling down the stairs and greeted me with soft, warm, sloppy kisses.

Not a bad way to start my visit.

My friend hosted the most divine little lunch and we had cups of tea and swapped Burning Man stories and caught up.

We also discussed how there is not much of a need for my services for her business right now.

And guess what?

I did not freak out.

I was too happy sitting in my patch of sunlight, enjoying her company, to give a hoot.

There is more out there for me and the absence of work for her does not mean that there is an absence of abundance for me, it’s just going to come from somewhere else.

And who knows, she may get busy in three days and need my help.

I felt a pick of anxiety and said, ok, that’s good, now move forward.

If I have learned anything in this last year of travel, rotating homes, couches, futons, house sitting, et al, is that I am always taken care of.

This does not mean I sit on my ass and wait for it to come to me, it just means that I don’t have to worry about the outcome of not having as much work right now as I would like.

It is ok for me to be a little light on the work at the moment.

Probably not for too long, but I can make rent right now for October if it were suddenly to be demanded.

I have enough.

I have enough brains too to get more work.

I may need to nanny more.

I may need to get my ass to a temp agency.

What ever.

The job (s) will come.

The money will come.

The anxiety about it can just not come.

“Why don’t you worry real hard about that and see what happens,” John Ater said to me once.

“Because I have noticed,” he continued as I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat wanting to tell him to fuck off, “that all that worry seems to work, as it never happens.”

Argh.

But so true.

I have not gone hungry this last year.

I have always had a place to sleep.

I have always had a way to get to where I needed to go–by bicycle, bus, foot, train, plane, automobile, trolley, cable car, subway, Metro, or golf cart–I have never been dropped.

Why the hell should I believe that I will now?

So my friends announcement did not put the panic in me, it actually did the opposite, a small voice said, “nature abhors a vacuum, there is something even better coming for you, be ready for it.”

Ok, then.

I am ready.

I left her and headed back to the Sunset, I had brought my computer with me and did not want to haul it around anymore, I also wanted to free up room in my messenger bag for a potential grocery shopping trip.

I made a couple of quick pit stops–Community Thrift in the Mission, and a little Asian market on Irving street–to pick up a couple of household things I wanted to have.

I got a wooden spoon, a small bowl, a carrot peeler, some batteries, and a set of salt and pepper shakers–the old-fashioned metal canister kind.

The kind that used to sit on my grandparents kitchen table in Lodi, Wisconsin.

I have been finding myself thinking a lot of them, my grandfather’s garden, my grandmother’s pickles and relish dishes.  I have certain smells and tastes in my heart that always remind me of them–fresh dill (grandma’s pickles) in my fridge has been nudging those thoughts and remembrances.

Then the salt and pepper shakers, just a kind of nostalgic novelty now, I suppose.

But they took me back and I could taste the ear of corn from my grandfather’s garden, slathered in butter and the liberal sprinkling of salt from the fat cannister with the small handle on it’s side.

I dropped my goodies off at the house and scooted back out the door, the painters were touching up the last of the walls in my studio and I did not want to be in the way, really there was nowhere to hang out anyhow, so I hopped the N-Judah with aspirations of picking up a few more household items.

This did not happen.

However, I did connect with my friend Calvin and we sat and had iced teas and shot the shit and connected and gossiped and shopped for his girlfriend.

I got to see two of my favorite people in one day.

And I got a ride back to Church and Market to get reconnected with my people.

Then the N-Judah back to the Sunset, a late dinner of Thai Cottage take out left overs, so good and a cup of tea, and voila.

The running around and getting “nothing” done, a figment of my way too active imagination.

Rather a relaxing day in which I watched anxiety float away like the fog being burned off by the sun.

I do not know what will happen next.

However, I feel assured that it will be wonderful.

I am exactly where I am supposed to be and I don’t believe I am going anywhere soon.

Except, maybe, down to the beach.


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