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.
So.
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?
Well.
Fuck.
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.
Because.
Well.
Drama.
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.
Yes.
That.
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.
Whew.
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.
Sigh.
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.
Seriously.
Auntiebubba 