There is So Much

To write about.

And where to begin?

I almost titled this blog, One Hour, as an homage to something quite big.

I also thought about naming it, “Are you Here?” as I suspect my ex is back in town.

At least it feels that way.

More about that later.

Then I thought I should write about my awesome and amazing Mike Doughty experience and having gotten to see him on Wednesday of this week and how I played hooky from clients and went out on a school night.

I didn’t really play hooky, I just rescheduled them for later in the week, I had one tonight and I’ll see the other tomorrow after my regular Saturday clients.

Then I thought, oh yeah, I should call this, “Vive La France!”

As I bought a ticket to Paris last night!

Yeah.

So.

All the things.

All of them.

So much going on.

Plus, of course, the school thing that is happening and how I managed to get all my papers done and turned in on time and also how I got back some really amazing comments on my last couple of papers.

“Clarity, erudition, adept usage of third person, meticulous APA style,” I could go on, but then I think that’s just ego.

I”m right on schedule with school at the moment and extremely happy about that, despite feeling a little disconnected from school since I did not get much time this week at work to do homework.

The family had the flu.

Like seriously bad, fevers, aches, chills, super bad sore throat, coughing.

I do not know how I escaped, but I did.

I also got my flu shot this year so that might have helped and as soon as the family was diagnosed with the flu at the doctors they called me and said call my doctor and get Tamiflu, which is a preventative medicine that will work if taken within 72 hours of exposure.

So I’ve been taking that all week and seemed to have skated by the flu.

Thank fucking God.

I cannot afford to be sick.

And.

I don’t like being sick.

Even the small part of me that rather enjoys lying around all day in bed.

The rest of me drives itself crazy when I’m sick.

So I’m super happy I avoided it.

But man, work was a tough one this week.

Which made it easy to ask off for time to work with a client.

Yes.

It’s official.

This week I got my tenth client.

I took a leap of faith when the person reached out and offered expanded hours beyond what I have available.

Meaning.

Wednesdays I work from 9 a.m. to 5p.m. then see clients at 5:30p.m., 6:30p.m. and 7:30p.m.

I offered the client a 4:30p.m. slot.

Technically I’m working as a nanny, but I’ve been in conversation for months now that at some point I would slowly begin the transitioning down of nanny hours for therapy hours.

I hesitated for just a brief moment but knew, really knew, that I had to offer hours that would overlap into my nanny shifts.

And the client took the Wednesday slot.

Which means I have to be done at the nanny gig by 4p.m. now on Wednesdays.

One hour less of being a nanny.

One hour more of being a therapist.

Plus.

This new client found me on Psychology Today and was not a referral from my agency, meaning the client is full fee.

Yippee!

The more full fee clients I get the faster I will transition out of nannying.

I mean, I love the family, but $30/hour versus $140 an hour.

Well.

I know what works better for me.

Anyway.

That’s therapy business.

Then there’s Paris business which in a way segues into ex-boyfriend business.

Yesterday at work I was checking e-mails in a brief moment of time when I wasn’t picking up used Kleenex, hydrating some small child, washing dishes, drawing, cuddling, or making hot tea with honey and saw an interesting email from a friend.

It was an e-mail that he forwarded that there was a one day sale happening for round trip tickets to Paris.

Oooh.

I wasn’t planning on going to Paris this year, I’ve been planning on going to Hawaii in July,(but still haven’t done anything about it as I’m waiting on my employers to let me know when they’re going to be in Finland and if, probably not, but if they are also planning on taking me to Helsinki with them)  going to Maui and staying in Paia, where my grandmother was born in 1928.

But.

I was curious about the flights and a little bug got in my ear and so I searched and shit, the price was too good to pass by.

So I picked the best time for me to go, end of the fall semester, in December.

Yes.

That’s right.

I’ll be in Paris on my birthday and for Christmas.

I fly out of SFO on December 17th, landing the next day at Charles de Gaulle on December 18th, my birthday, in the early afternoon.  I’ll fly back on December 27th.

So I’ll be there from my birthday through Christmas.

I will sit in cafes, go to museums (the Louvre, the D’Orsay, the Jeu de Paume, the Pompidou–which is open on Christmas, I know where I will be, wandering the galleries there for sure on Christmas day, the Orangerie, the Palais de Tokyo, the Grand Palais, the Petit Palais, the Musee de l’Art Moderne), walk everywhere, read books, go do the deal with the Paris fellowship, hang out with my best girlfriend from my Masters degree cohort…we’ve already made plans to go to the ballet (I messaged her right after I bought the ticket).

I got the ticket from Air France round trip, direct flights there and back for $579.32!

I still can’t believe that!

My girlfriend asked me why December after exclaiming at the cost of the ticket.

I told her that my birthday and Christmas have been really tied up with my ex the last two years and maybe its better for me to be in Paris then in San Francisco and really just do something for myself.

I always wanted him to come to Paris with me and I had even brought it up in the days before we broke up that I wanted to plan a trip with him there.

It is such a screamingly romantic city.

And he’s such a foodie, he would have loved it.

I’m still sad we didn’t get to experience that together.

She understood.

Plus, I told her that it makes sense with my school schedule and it’s the slowest time of year for therapy clients….the last two holiday seasons were really slow and I hear that it’s that way for most therapist.

So.

Yeah.

Booked that ticket.

I don’t think I’ll stay with my girlfriend, despite knowing she’d let me, I think I want a little more autonomy and she’s got young twins, who are super sweet and adorable, but the house isn’t huge and as much as I loved staying with them, I don’t want to stress them out at Christmas.

I figure I’ll Air BnB in the Marais where they live, it’s super central and I know it well enough, and just be an independent lady at Christmas time in the City of Lights.

God.

There’s more to say.

The feeling of my ex being in town, and wanting him to reach out or to somehow bump into him, it’s big, but I’ve not got time to write more.

I need to get up early, lots of clients tomorrow.

So.

I bid you adieu and I’ll see you on the flip.

 

Long Days

And tomorrow will be another one.

I was asked yesterday by the mom to come in two hours before my scheduled time tomorrow.

I said yes.

They have been having a rough go of it, three sick kids.

The oldest boy had to call out of school today with an ear ache.

A trip to the pediatrician and it turns out he has an ear infection.

Meanwhile, back at the house, I had the baby strapped to me pretty much all day, he’s still so sick.

And at the doctor’s office the pediatrician was super concerned bout the little lady bug, who has now officially been out of school for ten days, and it turns out she has a severe lung infection.

The mom has also been sick, so the doctor ran a test on the mom to see if she’s got the flu bug that has been so vicious.

Negative.

Thank God.

I don’t know if I could have handled hearing that she had the flu.

I am healthy as fuck.

I rarely get sick.

I had a cold about a year ago.

And I’ve had a couple of instances of food poisoning this year.

Once from sushi and once from oysters.

Neither one was fun, the one from the sushi was horrendous and I won’t be going back to that restaurant again.

But.

I haven’t had the flu.

I did do the flu shot at the beginning of the year and I’m super grateful for that.

I don’t really know if it’s all that effective with the strain of the virus that has been going around, but I’m glad to know I have it.

Could just be the placebo effect.

Could be that I have pleaded with God to not let me get sick.

I am far too fucking busy for that.

So.

Tomorrow I will have a ten-hour day at work.

Gratefully I don’t have clients on Wednesday.

When I get off from work I will be coming home and making soup.

I didn’t have a chance to do food prep for the week, lunch prep, I did dinner, and I’ve been eating salads at lunch.

Which is lovely, don’t get me wrong, but with it being as cold as it’s been, I prefer a nice hot bowl of soup.

Today, though, I have to say it felt pretty good to have a big salad.

I eat really clean.

No sugar, no flour, and a few other things that I pretty much eschew.

But I don’t graze, I’m not typically a big salad eater.

They tend to be a last resort for me.

I like to have a meal cooked and hot for my lunch, especially, having a warm lunch at work really helps me be grounded.

But.

In a pinch, I’ll do a salad and I had hit up Rainbow yesterday after supervision and I got lots of good salad fixings to carry me a few days into the week until I could do some food prep.

The salad today seemed particularly to hit the spot.

Because.

Well.

Yoga.

I was, and am, very pleased to say that I finally made the 7 a.m. yoga class at my studio.

My therapist was out of office today, so we didn’t have a session, and although I love the family I work with, I was loath to say anything about having any extra time, I decided rather, to go in at my regular time and to allow myself some yoga this morning.

It was great.

My favorite instructor taught the class and it was small.

Saturday and Sunday there were at least thirty people crammed into the studio.

Today.

Not so much.

There were just three of us and the instructor.

And for the first time.

The guys outnumbered the girls.

Three guys and me.

It was pretty awesome.

And there was lots of hands on instruction and attention and it felt good to be in my body and I was very happy with it.

So happy that I pretty much pledged to be there again next week.

It turns out that I have enough time to do the yoga class before I go to therapy.

I have to plan out somethings, have my clothes ready, and all my bags and folders and books and meals and what have you packed, but I can do it.

I can do the 7 a.m. class, get back to the house, take a quick shower, dress, do hair and makeup and get out of the house in a timely enough manner that I will be able to be on time for my therapy session.

I am pleased as fuck that I can fit it in.

I even discussed, fingers crossed, with my instructor the possiblility of the studio doing another morning class.

He’s all about it.

And the owner, in an e-mail recently, had mentioned that they were considering it.

On Thursdays.

Which would be perfect for me.

It would literally mean something almost every day of the week before work, but it would also mean staying flexible doing some good self-care and getting more exercise, which I have been craving.

So.

Yeah.

It felt pretty good to eat a great big salad after doing a 7 a.m. yoga class and going to work and being a really good nanny.

The baby took two very long naps on me and was either being carried by me and sitting right next to me the entire day.

He craves being held.

It makes so much sense, just the comfort of being held, it is such a nice thing.

I miss it too.

I have that same craving.

I suspect many of us do.

I sense, though, that it will come to me again.

Patience I tell myself.

Patience.

Just be patient.

Baby girl.

All good things to those who wait.

 

 

Strange Little Day

I called in sick today.

Which is very, very, very rare for me.

However.

I was really, really, really sick.

I had begun to feel sick last night, in retrospect, I was coming down with a pretty bad headache, bad enough that I didn’t write my blog last night when I got back from my evening commitment.

Pretty unusual for me and when I think about it, pretty indicative of how bad I was feeling.

I don’t always let myself be sick.

Not like I really have a choice, but my brain seems to think that it does, that it can choose whether or not I’ll react to the illness.

Last night I made myself a cup of tea and a little snack and even while I was enjoying it I was not enjoying myself at all.

My head fucking hurt.

And.

I couldn’t take any ibuprofen.

Not since getting the diagnosis of silent reflux from my doctor and when we had gone through all the things I didn’t eat and she couldn’t figure out why the hell I had all the symptoms but wasn’t eating any of the foods that would cause it, she hit on it, almost by accident.

“Ibuprofen?”

Oh yeah.

I take a lot of that.

And pretty much I’m causing my stomach to bleed out, I’ve been ulcerating it causing the reflux, causing all the off again on again pain, which, yes, was probably also exacerbated by the stress of this past semester.

It was a touch stressful, yes, it fucking was.

Anyway.

I have a headache.

It’s rotten bad.

And.

I can’t take the only pain-killer I have in the house, ibuprofen.

I can take it and maybe alleviate my headache, but it will blow my stomach out of whack.

So I make the decision to just go to bed and try to sleep it off.

Like a fucking hangover, which, for the record, it’s been a long fucking time since I’ve had one of those, but that’s what it felt like I was doing, trying to sleep it off.

I was in bed by 10:15 p.m. and had the alarm set for 6:30 a.m.

I woke up once around 3 a.m. to use the loo and the headache was still there and pretty awful.

I stumbled back into bed and prayed that when I woke up it would be gone.

It was not gone.

I got up anyway and got myself into the shower.

My head still hurt and my stomach felt horrid.

I dried my hair and started to get dressed.

It took a long time.

It really took too long a time.

I knelt down by my bed and started my morning readings and prayers and I started to get sweaty, like awful, cold sweat, I got super hot, broke out into a sweat and could barely say my prayers.

I finished, got up, felt woozy, sat down on my chaise and thought, fuck, maybe I should call into work.

No.

I can’t do that.

I have the next four days off and the family needs me.

I got myself up went to the bathroom and checked my face out in the mirror, fuck, I was shining with sweat and now I was chilled.

Eek.

I wiped my face, washed my face, and took a big deep breath, just go make your breakfast and you’ll be fine once you get some coffee in yourself.

I started to make breakfast.

I couldn’t fathom how I was going to eat.

The smell of the coffee wasn’t good, the apple I was cutting up to put in my oatmeal nauseating, I started to get sweaty again.

I couldn’t eat.

I was not going to be able to eat anything.

How the fuck was I going to go into work without eating breakfast?

I turned back to the stove, I poured some almond milk in a heating canister and the smell was way too much.

I turned off all the burners, walked away, left the bowl of cut up apples on the counter, the milk in the can, the percolator on the stove, an egg in a pan of water and I picked up my phone.

I stared at it.

I have to call in.

I can’t go in.

I called.

I lost the signal.

I called again.

Same thing.

I tried one more time.

Got through.

Told my employer I was super sorry, don’t know what was going on, food poisoning, stomach bug, then I started to cry.

I don’t cry.

Ok.

Sure.

I cry if you know me, if you don’t know me, you’re my boss or someone I engage with professionally, I’m not going to cry in front of you (doesn’t mean I won’t cry in the bathroom at work, but that’s different), and I started to cry, which is the ultimate sign to me, I was really sick.

My boss was sweet told me to get some rest and I got off the phone, took off my clothes and crawled right back into bed.

About ten minutes, maybe fifteen minutes of being in bed I sat up with a bolt, I’m going to actually throw up.

No, no, I’m not, I haven’t thrown up in years.

But I wobbled quickly to the bathroom.

And.

Holy shit.

I threw the fuck up.

I barely had time to drop to my knees and pull my hair out of my face.

My super pretty hair, I was having a great hair day, all for naught, the nice hair.

I vomited three times in succession and then got up, rinsed out my mouth, flushed the toilet and tottered back to bed.

I considered grabbing a bowl just in case to put by the bed, but I fell asleep too quickly to do anything about it.

I recall, in a dreamy sort of way, responding to a few text messages that came in during the morning, but most of what I did was drift in and out of sleep for the next five hours.

I got up a little after 1 p.m.

I drank a little water, my head still hurt, but I didn’t feel nauseous.

I made some of my breakfast that I had left on the stove hours earlier.

I was able to eat about half of it.

I talked with my best friend on the phone for a bit and by the time I was done with the conversation I felt better.

Well enough to finish the other half of the oatmeal and drink some coffee.

The headache went away about an hour later and the stomach totally settled.

I have no idea if it was food poisoning or if I was just suffering a migraine.

I don’t remember having an aura, which I typically do before a migraine, and I haven’t had a migraine in such a long time that I wasn’t sure if it was that or just a bad headache.

Either way.

It’s gone.

And.

I spent the entire day at home.

I rested.

I watched Blade Runner 2049 and chilled out.

I feel a lot better.

Good enough that I signed up for a yoga class in the morning.

I will take it easy, but I feel like I’m back to myself.

Sometimes a girl just has to take a sick day.

Grateful as fuck that I didn’t push myself to go into work, I would have probably thrown up in my new car.

No thank you.

I’ve got a super nice day off planned for tomorrow.

I am über grateful that I feel better.

Like over the moon.

Night friend.

See you on the flip.

Sweetest dreams ever.

Fever State

I was sick last night.

I am still not quite myself.

Broken.

Softened.

Slowed down.

Slightly maudlin.

How I can get when I am sick and what I use as a cue to my brain that my body is actually quite sick is how easily sad I can become when ill.

I had to surrender to it though.

There was no going to yoga today.

There was no reading with a lady today at my tiny kitchen table.

There were no walks on the beach.

There was some sitting in the sunshine, for which I am grateful for, although it took a while for me to even get to the back porch outside my little studio door.

I wasn’t even sure I was going to write this blog, but I wanted to infuse a little touch of normalcy into my day.

I haven’t had the same high fever I had last night, but I have had passing flushes of it and small chills, then it would pass, sitting in the sunlight was good for keeping warm and also for getting me into the fresh air.

I did not leave the house today.

I am not often sick and I am infrequently, and I do mean infrequently, tummy sick.

I don’t know if it was food poisoning.

Or stomach flu.

I can say I ate oysters on Friday and I had sushi yesterday, so there’s that possibility.

I can also say I may have been exposed to a flu bug at work but that was weeks ago and I don’t know that it was flu.

I do know I went to bed at my normal time and that I had signed up to take yoga this morning.

And I had a hard time falling asleep.

I couldn’t get comfortable, my thoughts were racing and I was cold.

That should have clued me in, but I just thought well, San Francisco summer time, it must be chillier outside than I recalled when going to bed.

But as I tossed and turned something changed.

I got really cold.

Uncontrollably cold.

I started to shiver.

I was on the cusp of sleep and didn’t recognize at first what was happening.

I tried to turn over and stretch and my body cramped up.

I couldn’t stretch out, I was too cold, it was furious this coldness, my skin, my muscles, everything horrid and tight and sore and achy and then hot, so hot, but not hot enough, I was so awful cold.

My stomach got crampy.

Shit.

I am going to throw up.

I realized that I haven’t thrown up in a while.

Like nine years?

Eight.

Last time I threw up I was living on Capp and 23rd and nanny for a couple of my sweet bunnies up in Potrero Hill, it was just after New Years and the parents had loads of leftover food from the party and the mom said have at it.

I ate some meatballs.

They were good and I didn’t think much of it, until a little later when I was vomiting so hard I was crying to die or for my mother to rescue me.

That’s always a very good indication that I am ill, I want my mom.

But I could recognize that feeling.

Then.

OH.

Oh no.

It’s not just wanting to throw up.

I could feel my tummy rebelling at everything.

But I was so fucking cold I couldn’t get out of bed to use the bathroom.

I mean.

I did or I would have had a horrendous mess to clean up.

But it was awful.

Naked.

Shivering.

Crying.

I ran back and forth from bed to bathroom five times.

At one point I had made it to the kitchen to get a bowl to put my bed in case I were to throw up as well, I mean, might as well make it a party.

Or the thoughts careening through my head that I should have grabbed the wastebasket too and put it by the toilet, but if all else failed I could grab towel from the rack and vomit on that and throw it away.

Fun times.

The fever was high and I thought for a moment I might need to call for a car and go to urgent care, but the thought of going out in the cold was too much and I just crawled back into bed and toughed it out.

My fever broke this morning around 4 a.m.

I felt pretty delirious the whole time and so sore from my body cramping and the shaking trying to get warm.  I don’t remember much just that I suddenly didn’t feel like vomiting any more and that maybe I could fall asleep.

I remember looking at my phone to see what time it was.

4:04 a.m.

Then falling asleep.

Waking up around 7 a.m. and messaging the woman I was supposed to meet with and saying I had to cancel.

Falling in and out of sleep.

Talking with a dear friend for part of it and silent tears leaking down my face, so not good at being sick.

Then slipping back into sleep and yes.

Sleeping until 2p.m.

I might have awoken sooner, but something is off with my phone, sometimes it rings and sometimes it doesn’t and my text tones aren’t chiming when I get a text.

I had my phone on and I had received texts, but my phone wasn’t alerting me even though I had the volume on.

So.

I slept.

And it was good.

I mean.

I still spent most of the day soft and woozy and quiet.

I managed oatmeal and I had some coffee, I know it’s not great for my tummy, but the caffeine head ache wasn’t helping either.

There I was at 3:30p.m. having “breakfast.”

I did manage a hot shower and hair wash, and that was one of the times I had a bit of a fever again, but no more tummy issues, I have curly hair again, by the way, the blow out is gone, but I spent most of the day really lying quite low.

I wasn’t a hero.

I was soft and mushy.

That’s for sure.

Vulnerable.

I felt like my underbelly was a little exposed and tender and I just kept quiet and read my book, and was happy that there was sun and not too upset if the neighbors noticed I was in my pajamas all day.

At least it was a pretty vintage nightgown.

And so.

Yup.

That was my day.

Not too exciting.

Hopefully I will awaken and be clear of it all.

I have my supervisor in the morning, a date with a girlfriend to the MOMA after, a client at 6:30p.m.

I have not cancelled anything, and unless I’m puking blood later I won’t cancel my supervision.

But if I’m still feeling low I’ll cancel the museum and rest before seeing my client in the evening.

Too soon to tell.

Just going to curl up and have a little tea and see if I can sleep the rest of it off.

Until tomorrow.

Sweetest slumber.

 

 

 

God Damn It

I got the cold.

Dude.

I just got over the stupid flu thing that was going around.

Two weeks of that shit over my birthday and Christmas and now.

NOW.

I have the cold.

I just did the unheard of.

I mean, UNHEARD OF.

I called in sick to work.

Because when out of nowhere, I mean, no warning, ones nose starts running so fast that it ends up in your cleavage, you don’t go to work.

Um.

No.

Especially not with a brand new baby in the house.

Guys.

I just got the fucking flu shot last week, and the Tdap.

I think I caught it last night, I could feel a tickle in my nose and I had a little bit of difficulty falling asleep.

But.

I went in.

I didn’t think much of it.

The weather, frankly, is not much help either.

Wet feet, rain, wind, storms, coldness.

Lots of excitement out there.

Ugh.

I thought maybe, maybe, it’s allergies.

Because at first all that was happening was random big sneezes every so often.

Until towards the end of the day and then it started to be a bit of congestion and runny nose.

Then more rain, cold, waiting on trains and by the time I got home I had to have the box of tissues right by my side.

Because when my nose started running that fast I had to use my shirt.

Ugh.

Oh my God.

I had absolutely no desire to call in sick, in fact, I feel mortified.

But I can’t with any good conscience take this to work with a new-born.

Oh, my nose hurts.

Bad.

This is not good.

I have school this weekend, my anniversary dinner, get out of my body fucking illness.

Ugh.

Grr.

I swear, my entire blog won’t be about my cold.

I got my dress!

There’s that.

And it’s so cute.

I was right, the company sent my dress to the woman who’s cardigan sweater I received.

Pretty easy mistake, we both live within blocks of each other.

So she came by tonight, dropped off my dress, got her sweater, and hey, hey.

I have a super cute new dress.

You can check it out here.

Freaking adorable.

Fits like a charm.

I will either wear it with my platform Mary Janes or my Converse, depending on how I feel come Sunday.

I’m going to school, I’m not going to call out sick and hopefully, whatever stupid cold bug this is will rapidly cycle through and out of my body.

I’m wearing that dress come hell or high water.

With my little black cardigan and some black leggings, it’ll be hella cute.

And it looks really good with my hair back to brunette.

Happy to have a new frock.

Yes.

And super happy I didn’t have to return the sweater and wait for the company to figure out the error, really happy I was proactive and contacted the woman who was listed on the packing slip.

Granted I could get annoyed with the company, but it was a human error, and mistakes happen.

I’m just happy to have it for the weekend.

And for in general.

It’s a very cute dress.

Pardon me while I breathe open-mouthed and sit here with a very strange look on my face, that one, yes, there, the one where I’m about to sneeze but haven’t yet.

Hella distracting.

I think I’m going to make more tea.

I think I might have to have tissues delivered if I continue wiping my nose.

Goodness.

Yeah.

I haven’t heard back from the family, but I really don’t see going into work tomorrow, not at this rate.

I’m in bunny slippers with my third cup of tea since I got home, shed the shirt I wiped my nose on, thank you very much, and a box of tissues on the table that is now half empty.

I don’t actually, at the moment, feel that bad, and I sound hella sexy, like I stuffed three packs of menthol cigarettes in my mouth and lit up after drinking a bottle of whiskey.

Not that I did either.

It’s fun though, sort of, having a husky voice.

God’s way of compensating for the runny nose.

Sorry your snot ran out your nose so fast you had to use your shirt, but hey, you sound super sexy.

Like anyone wants to be within ten feet of me right now.

I could use a cuddle if you’re down, though.

Just saying.

Misery loves company.

Heh.

Oh gosh.

I amuse myself.

Which is good, I’ll probably be my only company for the next twenty-four hours or so.

Hoping that if I take it easy and let the cold run it’s course, I haven’t really much of a choice, it’s running it’s fucking course down my face, I will be able to at least go into work on Thursday and be ready for the school weekend come Friday.

At least tomorrow is supposed to be the last day of rain for a while.

I might just need to do that.

Lie in bed.

Listen to the rain.

Sneeze.

Like I just did.

Whew.

Wow.

That’s some heady shit.

Hahaha.

That was like, make sure your eyes are closed tight, or your eyeballs might fly out of your head.

Sneezing is actually kind of fun in a gross out kind of way.

I’m so distracted, this blog is taking a long time to write.

And I am legitimately sick.

So.

I’m going to call it a night and ease on down the road with my box of tissues.

Night all.

Rest well.

I’ll be using my box of tissues for a pillow.

Heh.

You think I’m joking.

 

 

God, You Smell Good

“Wait, hug me again,” my friend said, “mmmhhmm, that’s what a woman should smell like.”

Aw.

Thanks man.

He was the third guy in the past twenty-four hours to tell me I smelled good.

Last night at my speaking engagement.

Tonight at my deal after work.

At least I know I have my scent dialed in.

Heh.

And my nails did.

I snuck it in between work and doing the deal.

It was a long day at work, I’m super glad I was able to take a half hour and decompress.

I came into work this morning at 8 a.m. to discover the one of the parents was staying home sick with the flu and one of the boys was off as well.

Plus the baby.

Good gravy.

It was a full day.

But.

I had some reprieve when the mom felt better and went to pick up the third boy from school and took the two boys out to an afternoon matinée.

I took the baby to the park.

She’s so much fun.

And she really is like my number one fan.

We spent a good five minutes today saying each other’s name back and forth and giggling.

She ran, I mean ran across the floor, arms upraised, “Carmen, Carmen, Carmen, Carmen,” and threw herself at me today.

I mean.

Man, it’s nice to be loved by your boss like that.

Heh.

She’s taken to kissing me and looking deeply into my eyes.

It’s pretty endearing.

The mom who was home sick today told me when she got back from the movie, “we are really going to miss you.”

Aw.

That was super nice to hear.

And when she sat down I asked her what I should do with the oldest boy, poor pumpkin had fallen asleep on the couch tonight at 5p.m.

He never naps.

He’s been sick too.

Ate almost nothing but a popsicle and some Mac N Cheese.

This morning when I showed up he hadn’t gotten out of bed yet, it was nearly 45 minutes before he stumbled down the stairs for a waffle with grandma’s strawberry jam on it.

He ate about a 1/4 of it.

I pretty much knew then.

He was super sick.

I had a passing moment.

Please, dear God, no getting sick right before  I leave for my friend’s home for Thanksgiving.

Please.

So when his mom looked on him with utter aghast befuddlement, “I don’t know, he’s never fallen asleep on the couch before, he’s just not a napper.”

“I can carry him upstairs,” I said, “and put him to bed.”

I had almost done it already, but figured I should wait for the mom’s thoughts before throwing any kind of monkey wrench in their schedule.

“I can’t, not in my state, I just, yes, can you?”  She asked ashen with her illness.

Poor sweet family.

I scooped the boy up and cradled him in my arms, he shifted, I kissed his forehead and walked slowly up the stairs whispering little sweet nothings in his ear as I held him against me.

He woke up a tiny bit and grumbled something at me and I said, “don’t worry bunny, I’m just going to snuggle you down into bed, you’re fine, mommy is coming home soon.”

“Rest,” I said and tucked him into his bed.

He turned on his night-light, it’s over his pillow mounted on the head-board of the bunk bed, and burrowed into his pillow.

“Good night sweet boy, I love you,” I said and turned off the light.

“Love you too, Carmen,” he whispered and rolled over.

Oh.

My heart.

I will miss them too.

I have quite connected with the little clan of them.

I came down and the mom was sitting on the couch with the middle boy, “thank you, so, so much, I couldn’t have carried him up.”

I was so happy to help and then the baby girl came running over, “up, up, up, Carmen, Carmen, up.”

I swung her up.

She’s totally over the flu bug that has laid the family low.

She kissed me.

She looked into my eyes, “love you Carmen.”

Oh my God.

All the love today.

It was so, well, lovely.

Then hearing a former lover tonight share and being able to sit and listen and be kind and not have judgements.

Ok.

Maybe I had a few.

But they melted away.

Just another human.

Just another person stumbling through the world.

“God, you smell so good,” he buried his face in my hair.

I could feel his breath on my neck and I thought, ok, I need to find my seat before do something stupid.

Warmth in my face as I reflect.

I’m right in the middle of the cycle and a little ramped up, even though I am tired.

Had he made a suggestion.

I might have suggested he come over.

But.

Nope.

And for the better.

There are reasons why we are not together.

Despite enjoying the compliment and watching his handsome face and big emotive brown eyes .

Best left to his own devices and I to mine.

Not to say I am not up for whatever fun the Universe has in store for me.

I absolutely am.

I am out and about in my world.

I wish to see and be seen and I’m letting myself be gentle with the whole thing.

I don’t have to manipulate it, figure it out, or make anything happen.

Life is unfolding in a delightful manner and I have no need to force the bloom to blossom faster by pulling off the petals so it will unfurl in the way I want it to.

Everything is coming up roses.

I mean.

I should know.

I smell like a bouquet of them.

Seriously.